I have never felt like More of an animal than when I was on a school bus full Of boys, a shaken jar Of bees.

I had forgotten this feeling Until recently, when driving back Over a bridge from my grandparent’s house, I asked my partner to put on Credence Clearwater Revival.

I was feeling a particular blend Of freedom and righteousness, The kind which spurs the horses Of justice, the same one Which spawned the words Of John Fogerty.

By the end of the first guitar strum, I remembered, brought back The way you might when your nostrils Catch the scent of baking flour, salt And water from the oven.

Except these weren’t warm memories From my family’s kitchen, cozying me On a cold winter Saturday. The chorus brought with it All those years stuck between Patch-work, faux-leather seats, Stuffed away in the back. Suppressed social scars flooded Back embarrassment so thick I felt my heart shiver, My shoulders curling as I tried To sink deep into my seat.

A few moments passed Remembering the horrors of Those hormone-filled hallways, Constant jostling of social status, Before I grounded myself Again to the steering wheel In quiet thought the rest of The way home.