I feel like crying when someone asks me to talk about myself
And I can only try to explain why
But self reflection tends to only see the bad things
I do not fit in with everyone else like I am expected too
Maybe I'm being dramatic, but I am constantly feeling like
Something is wrong with me, something has been off since I was born
And I am just finding out about it now

This is why I push away people
As quickly as I push away my meals
And why even now I sit here in tears typing away at a ****** poem
Or why scars cover my thighs and baggy clothes hide my figure
Why everyone I had known since a child slowly forced me out of their lives

So when someone asks me to talk about myself
These things are what come to mind, but
Overwhelmed with a feeling a failure, I still manage to sell a shy smile
And say something simple like:
"I like to sail and run cross country"
Because that's what they want to hear,
And I will wait until I meet another person that will ask, and maybe
I'll fork up the courage to spill everything out,
But probably not, I feel pretend

I do not recognize the image in the mirror
Staring back at me with red weeping eyes
Eyes that only wish to see someone else
Someone better

But the image won't change, and I panic
"If you don't calm down I will send you to the ER again"
My head is pounding, why can't I just act normal?
I'm not insane, I know it

Anything but the hospital again, please
There is nothing worse than those fluorescent lights
And the sympathetic smiles of strangers

I do not recognize the image in the mirror
Glaring back at me with disappointed eyes
Eyes that wish I was someone to be proud of
Someone that isn't me

Maybe had I been Alice I'd be more fortunate
I'll fall into one of my day dreams and get out of this town
What does it take to slip into that happy fantasy?

But instead red drips pretty
It pools and forms beautiful roses on the bathroom tile
Can't pick them up, they don't smell like flowers

If only I had met the rabbit down the hole
Maybe he could have shown me the real flowers in that not-so-real world,
That life of adventure would be enough to make me happy

But my roses are fading along with the rest of the room
Turning into black, and I'm eye level with these pools of pretty
I guess this is me slipping out of this dreadful town into my day dreams, finally

Slip, fall
No movement for a couple seconds
Passed out on the floor
Blood covers his face and shirt
Responsible drinking Dad

"Get him up!"
Panic quickly enters the room
So close,
But he collapses again

"Call 911!"
My hands are shaking
As I dial for help
"Hello where do you live"
More questions are asked while they are still trying to stand him up

Bright flashing lights take control of everyone's attention
He is conscious now sitting with the police
Drunk fingers hold mine tightly for support
But why should I support him?

The bright lights take him off to where he will be spending the night
When we get there he is lying down in a room
"Someone give me a gun, I need to die"
Dad, you're drunk
Tears fill up in my eyes as I sit and watch my father figure in a new light
"Plummy, do you have a gun for me?"

A little part of me dies when he says that
I feel sick to my stomach, where is the dad I used to know?
No Dad, I don't have a gun
He looks at me with sadness and embarrassment
But I cannot get myself to look back with love and support
So I just don't look at him

I never let myself judge him because of things like this
Tonight that idea changed in my head
I just hope this is a wake up call for him too

Whenever I get in a car I make sure the doors are locked
I do this because I like to lean against the window with my whole body
It's terrifying to think that the door could just fly open and I could fall out
Sometimes I make sure everyone's doors are locked
It's sort of a pet peeve of mine
Or maybe it's more of an anxiety

I climbed into the back seat of my dad's big red truck last night
I leaned against the door like I always do
But I didn't lock the door,
Actually I made sure it was unlocked
You could say I was waiting for something bad to happen
The truth is I wasn't waiting, I was wishing

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”
— John Keating, Dead Poets Society

I wondered what you were thinking
When your hands moved up and down my scratchy sweater
As you lay with me with comforting arms

I wondered where I would be in five years
When the people we know become the people we knew
As we grow into entirely different people

I wondered why nothing was making sense
When everything crashed down on me at once
As you tried to explain to me in a previous story

I wondered about the things that will matter
When we're living in nursing homes retelling the only stories we can remember
As if anything could possibly matter by then anyways

I wondered what it would be like to die
When I can't live anymore
As your arms wrapped me in a tighter embrace

I wondered about you and me
When our time runs out if it ever will
As you traced my hand with your finger

I wondered why I was crying and couldn't find an answer
When you asked me what was wrong
As you lay down next to me and cradled me in your bed

Florescent lights
An unbreakable chill
Patterned tile

Shaking bones
An over-sized blue gown
And a small white bracelet

I want to write a poem about how I'm feeling
But it'll just come out bad
And people will misinterpret it
Then I'll just feel stupid for even trying
So here it is, the feeling of sadness

So we sat there
Pipe in hands
Singing our favorite songs
Listening to our favorite bands
And those few minutes
Sitting close on those rocks
Made quite the difference
To the order of my thoughts

So he left,
Which is okay

Music is playing,
The Velvet Underground

I'm alone,
But not lonely

Maybe I'm over thinking things
Or maybe I'm right on target
But I think I met you for a reason
...
I hope I did

Today before I left for school
I went through the old photo albums in my house
I took out two pictures
My mom and dad at their wedding
And my dad dancing with me when I was still a little girl
On my walk to school I started crying
So I took out the pictures
My mom looked beautiful in her dress
More importantly she looked happy.
My dad stared at her in a way I've never seen before
He was happy too
He looked proud to have me
I could tell
And for a few seconds I felt better
But then I thought of them now
I thought about how my dad is always gone
And how my mom doesn't talk much anymore
And the sadness rushed back.
It still hasn't left

You can say you fell in the bathroom
Or you ran into the door
But the thing is
Your excuses are so transparent
No one is mad at you for lying
And no one blames you for the way things turned out
Yet you refuse to let anyone in
Not even your closest friends
Who want nothing more but to help
Sometimes I don't think you're hiding from them
I think you're hiding from yourself
Because the second reality hits you
It can only get worse
You convince yourself that life is okay
And that it's not a big deal
But that's just another lie you're telling yourself
To get by one more day

I sit here alone
And contemplate
The small plastic bottle
That holds my fate.
And on that note,
I sign off dearly
As the girl
Who wouldn't see
He was standing in front her
willingly.