I am tired of feeling lost in you
I am tired of running back when you call
I am tired of never being enough
I am tired of being nothing to you and everything to your ego
I am tired of this bitter taste,
of your voice in my head when I can't sleep
of looking for signs of you on every street
of wishing I had been what you needed
because, you never saw me as anything more than a little girl with a lesson to be learned, and yourself as the perfect teacher.

Please
Dont whisper my name
Ill shoo you away like one of my bees

Yell it instead
So I can hear You

Please
Dont tap on my shoulder
I'll ignore you like one of my keepers

Shake me instead
So I can feel You

Please
Dont stare too long
I'll think you can see them

Buzzing behind my eyes
And holding a knife behind my back

Your laugh used to fill all my midnights
With the sound of birds
after all avian life was sleeping

Your laugh danced through my dreams
And drifted through the wind
When you weren't around

But, like birds migrate,
You found new uses
For that bubbly, bright, beautiful laugh

My midnights became midnights
And the birds were just birds
Because your laugh had taken a new form

Instead of serenades
Your laugh came like bullets
And pierced my skin

We no longer sang together
Your laugh went on without me
Your laugh went on about me

Today I cried on the floor of my kitchen
i sat there with my head in my hands
i sat there for half an hour
crying
drooling
screaming
into my shirt sleeves
after a while, i went numb
i stared at the floor
listening to my family in the living room

its just another meltdown
she probably just forgot to take her meds
shes probably on her period
she needs to learn some respect

the real world will show her
she cant act like a baby
every time shes upset.

I keep my old pill bottles.
not because I plan to reuse them,
or fill them with extra beads,
stray sewing needles
random coins,
a travel pack of Q-tips,
or tiny paint tubes that I might use to somehow make my mental illnesses art.
I keep my old pill bottles because they are me.
I keep my old pill bottles because they are one month of me.
they are not me because they have my name,
address,
medicine,
doctor,
pill quantity,
pharmacy,
Rx number printed on them in ******* ink.
they are me because they held the chemicals my body could not dream of creating.
What they hold is not beautiful. it is not deep.
it is a second leg you have to re-stitch every day because your body didn't know how to grow one.
Those bottles hold the pills that make me, me.
I feel because of them,
I sleep because of them,
I live because of them.
Before them, I was not human.
I was a body with partial instructions.
Every Month I have to get another extension of myself from the local CVS.
Every month I put an empty bottle in the box on my nightstand because that bottle held what I was last month.

it's strange looking at a small white pill knowing that someday this month, that pill will be the reason you react to something important the way you did or the one you forget to take causing a break down in your English class.

It's strange how I can be manufactured so easily.