Pounding Beat

I turned it up louder as if that could make the thoughts go away. They had to disappear if I was going to keep my mouth shut. Maybe I just liked the pounding beat in my ears that seemed to change the very rhythm of my heart. Control. It's what I had been working on for a good two and a half months. I remembered moments ago clutching the chair arm, letting my nails dig into it. Then the slight relief as I prevailed, withholding my thoughts and justice and the disappointment in there having been no change. If there was anything I wanted more than a peace of mind about how he and I felt it would have been for him* to have an open mind and listen. Not see me as a nearly seventeen-year old girl, but as someone who truly understood how people truly should be and were, with the right observance. Either that or the elimination of the problem. The last seems more likely other than the elimination of my presence since I know that the fire will not be removed from his eyes, the wind in his ears to hear any if at all my voice.