I’m sorry mom
I still love you
But I’m gone right now
You hit me mom
I kept saying I’m sorry
But you didn’t hear me
Couldn’t hear me
I’m safe now mom
I miss you
I want a hug from you
I just wanted to be okay
But you hit me
I walked down the driveway mom
And I kept looking back
Waiting for the light to turn on
Waiting for you to run out
Saying it’s okay
Come home
But you didn’t mom
And I’m not sure I would’ve
If you did
I’m sorry mom
I didn’t mean to hurt you mom
But you hit me
And I am gone now

I cut my arms in seventh grade.
“What’s so terrible about your life?”
“Why are you looking for pity?”
I developed an eating disorder.
“Gain weight, you look awful.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. Stop.”
I ran away.
“You think your life is so miserable!”
“You have clothes and food and shelter what could possibly be wrong?”
I cried myself to sleep every night.
You never noticed.
These were cries for help, mom!
This wasnt attention seeking!
I needed you to be a real parent.
I was crying.
For help.

I became quiet
Because you were too loud
I became apologetic
Because you never apologized
I began to hate touch
Because you touched with violence
I began to hate myself
Because you never loved me
I don’t know how much more change
I can take before i’m unrecognizable

And suddenly I’m back to stacking bracelets

Can anyone hear me?
I’m yelling but no one is listening
I’m falling but no one is catching me
I’m crying but no one sees me
I’m grabbing but no one feels me
Am I invisible

Everyone is asking me
If I’m okay
And I just say yes
Because it’s easier to be
To be okay
But it never feels right
And I guess
I guess that’s because ive spoken to you
And they don’t follow it up
With “do you promise?”
They don’t do it like you
So I’ll lie and say yes
I guess

Last first day
Senior year
Same halls, same walls
Same people
We fought, we laughed, we talked
We goofed and joked and cried
We have one thing in common
This is the last year we’ll roam these halls
Last year we’ll eat at the cafeteria
Play sports
Create inside jokes
I’ll miss you guys

I started wearing a rubber band
Around my wrist
So I can send slicing pain
Through my arm when I didn’t feel okay
My wrist is swollen
White welts
But they won’t scar
That makes it okay

I come home
After faking a smile
And curl up on my bathroom floor
And sob
Silently, of course
I’m broken and I cannot be fixed