inward fangs

The thing we hate most is
it's time to grow up. We hate 
all the dumb toys we didn't 
have time to find out to enjoy,
when others did. 

The disgust is always

partly at the you who didn't realize it.
Self-hate's fangs are turned inward, it
has every trick in the book to turn us
ingrown and festering, not outgrowing
anything.

There's a part of us
that resents our being.
Our very being.

We attack who we were
for stupidity, weakness 

and everything else, because
we resent having been. 

I don't understand it. But yes
that disgust overrides roughshod.
Everything it can that could be
grasped and learned from,
to diminish and weaken,
outgrow and overcome

the urge to self-destruction. That urge
is always fighting for its life, 

our death. 'Til our death overtakes us 
or we grow up 
and forget.