I have so many reasons to be alive.
But I get tired.
I don't think I scare myself anymore.
quiet car rides,
On starry nights.
Might even learn,
To enjoy it.
I swear to God, don't fucking have children
if you are not prepared for them to be less than perfect
you were offended that my father's sister
passed you a book about acceptance
obviously meant for your children to read
but she has MS, her
adopted children have Down Syndrome
I can certainly see her motivation
but you never could, you closed your mind
I knew something was wrong with me
when I couldn't stop writing until it was perfect
when I couldn't stop adjusting until I was perfect
you praised me for being so meticulous
perfectionists succeed, you know
my diagnosis shocked you,
I could see it in your eyes
but you smiled and kept your cool
since shock is not honorable
since you must keep up appearances
you nodded and got me a shrink
you tried for at least five months, I believe
to heal me without interference
the psychologist, he helped
you told me to calm down and just relax
the psychologist, he listened
you shoved your words and multivitamins
down my throat as I begged for you to hear me
finally, I'm on medication
it's a small, white, circular pill
it helps me more than "calming down"
I don't think you understand how tics work
you try not being able to control your body
you shrug it off and yell at me for my messy room
I hear you joke that I can't have my illnesses
as I swallow the white pill
and a blue, more rectangular one after it
since I'm so disorganized
you chuckle as I clench my jaw
my father understands me the most
he is not like you; he knows
what it's like to be disordered
but you don't like me talking to him
according to you, he's lazy and wrong
you say as he is the only one with an income
this house creaks as the toilet plugs, again
under my Hello Kitty weighted blanket
I tic and tic and obsess
at least you don't deny my first three issues
but you scoff at the possibility that I could
just maybe, jump off a tall building
it's taken two psychologists (one from school),
the guidance counselor,
a goddamn neurologist (he prescribes the pills),
and only now do you believe that I am drowning
you pass me an oxygen mask
but only when you're getting told what I am
whenever we get back to the place you call my home
you're holding my head underwater,
ignoring my input
"a loaded god complex, cock it and pull it"
back to the drawing board again
what's wrong with me this time around?
is it the fat that no one else sees
the calories that hang off my bones like weights
"shoot me up to entertain"
the pieces are in place, I've just gotta
the shit away so that I can finally
walk unencumbered, walk amongst the rest
"drop like a bullet shell"
forgive me, my tutors
but I've been forced to give in
under harsh scrutiny
line up those goddamn targets again
let's make this the round that counts
Coughing and wheezing
This gunk in my chest won't leave
This headache is pounding like a hammer on nails
This constant sneeze, minute after minute
And that irritant sting in my throat
With the disturbing ache in my bones
A few days on end, I've been driven by illness
I've been held back by sickness
Make it all go away with medicines
the concrete jungle is nothing compared
to the pressure in my lungs
don't be so haughty, you say
I know only lofty words,
I know only dramatics and lyrics
wings of leather, bones of steel
nothing compared to the blows you give
don't be so weak, you say
I know only pleading to the firmaments
I know only brittle snapping of wills
blood on the pavement, blood in my ears
rushing, rushing, rushing
put down the gun, you say
I know only gasping for toxic air
I know only the squeal of the pig at slaughter
I once stood in the middle of a motorway at 3am
just for fun,
I told myself, just for fun -
But I don't think it was, now I'm okay
I still sway, dream of far away but I get my exams done,
so I don't let my mother down again
so I don't hide inside from remaining friends.
I keep myself planted, smile slanted, never frown -
and I don't make a sound until I mean to,
until I breeze through,
until I need to,
this is the studied truth of the newly grounded.
I'm not into rushing things these days,
I mean I still do but less so in less ways
and my mind's all curly wurly and I have resting bitch face
and skin like a coffin -
I still can't get up early, still feel displaced
a little too often -
but this is my city now and I don't want to leave or get out,
because this time I am okay
and I'm dealing
and my anxiety still leaves me reeling
but I'm not panicking as much or screaming
and my pillows are the only ones who don't believe me.
everything is temporary, in constant flux
fresh cut grass and students in class
sunsets and sunrises
church bells and waist sizes
metal and petrol and monster trucks,
and it's all beautiful,
that's the most important thing you'll ever find out -
it's better to shine bright without background doubt
than to disappear into the darkness,
the dark mess,
I mean, I still want to run and shout but now
it's more writing my thoughts down and actually seeing the day
and not 3am standing in a motorway
telling myself, just for fun.
This is not the barrel of a gun, hard and cold
it's not the answer it's not made of gold
it's not a solution, it's scooting to the end
I might never know if we rot or acsend,
but it wasn't just for fun,
it was leaving the motor running,
it was something I was running away from -
it isn't easy, it's not like saying 'it's okay'
when it's not yourself that you're telling
and when it's you, it can't be told or shown
you have to push hardest when you're alone
because finally, once clear of fear's gripping hands
I came to understand
that life is beautiful, even when it's sad,
it's the best thing I never knew I had,
so I started living,
just for fun.
I'm not done, you see?
I'm not done.
what a lovely piece of art!
I stutter as I manage to finally
vomit out the words I need to say
they hit the ground in front of us
you nod, smile, and turn away
I totally agree with you!
if this were a digital conversation
carried out on phones and screens
I wouldn't be so quiet
the towel squeaks louder as the janitor cleans
dude, nice shoes
I trip over my words (and earlier, my feet)
not to be too intrusive, but you're pretty cool
I've been friends with you for at least three years
yet you only acknowledge me in school
can I come with you?
I never go out with you anymore
a bond of seven or so years
and yet I'm still nervous to ask you things
but I've always been there to catch your tears
Humbled and disgraced
Hills to climb, valleys to cross
Trusting in time, it will be clear
my life is not a total loss.
Fear is a vine that beats down across my back, leaving uneven lines and parallel marks.
Is it always the prettiest flowers that become the most deadly? You’re poisonous to the touch.
All that calms me is all that fails to bring me happiness. Your jasmine scented perfume only reminds me of a love left unanswered; of a bird too scared to lift its wings and try out flight.
Maybe I would like the cold when I wake up, a thick shield of darkness to cover up and hide the person who I was never strong enough to be.
You’ll look me in the eyes when you tell me that it’s too hard to love me. Those oceans will be replaced with dull, empty ponds but you’ll mean every word, you’ll speak as if getting it off your chest will make the sun come back.