we all know that i'm insane, but these thoughts that drag on in my head like shackles on concrete- they ring loud and i cannot stop grabbing my head in pure agonizing pain. i cannot hear my cries at night because it's just too much. i feel as if i'm going to loose my hair, either from me pulling it out or from fear. what am i afraid of? everything. every move i make, every breath i take- there it is-something so much bigger than i am. it holds me down, strangles me in the depth of my depression. i think it's comfort. i am not strong enough to free myself.

It's time to stop living like this
don't you know

So here we are; human. All skin and bones, organs and muscles. Our parents tell us we can be whatever we want to be. They say, "find yourself." They tell us to love whomever we choose and to love them with whatever we have. They tell us to treat others the way you want to be treated, to thank everyone who opens the door for us.

So here I am-skin and bones, ***** and muscles. I'm traveling through life doing exactly what I was taught to do and that was to be myself. I drive down the street and I sing to the radio. And people laugh-a lot of people laugh. But I love freedom. I love when I can feel the wind in my hair. I love reminding myself that I am still alive. That the people laughing are alive too.

And they are human, and sometimes we forget that. Every step that we take, we are moving along this life and it's so short and so beautiful and sometimes it's terrible. But don't ever forget that you're alive. That the road is always taking us somewhere, even if its a dead end. Because we don't always need pavement to follow our dreams. We don't need signs to tell us how fast we can go, because we're all moving at our own pace. And sometimes the dead end roads lead to the best hiding spots, and your greatest ideas come at red lights, but I never want to stop moving-I never want to turn around and go back. Because the past always looks more wonderful then the present and the future, things start happening. And I was always taught that 'things' is an oatmeal word, but so are a lot of words. And I got this idea to write a poem while I was waiting for a friend and I realized how lucky I am. Because people leave all the time. And she hasn't. Some of us have heard all the '...I'm leaving you' speeches and my heart goes out to the people who didn't receive them. Because leaving should never be done in silence. But when people leave, they stay inside of you forever, whether you like it or not. So you can sit at the red light every morning before work and ponder why they left...or you can just let it go. Because people leave every day and it doesn't make it any easier. But our parents taught us to thank everyone who opens the door for us but this is me sincerely thanking every one of you for closing it behind me.

The day I met you, you held my hand while my parents screamed, stayed on the phone when I didn't want to face the deafening fall out. That night I bared my body to you, forgetting you were a stranger twice my age.. You told me we are perfectly compatible, You were the one who is OCD about numbers and time while I was failing math and struggling to keep up, you should have known 14 and 27 are not compatible numbers. I once called you 3 minutes after I said I would and you ignores me for a week until I agreed to show you my **** to make it up to you. Our relationship consisted of petty arguments, razor blade insults, commands, and punishments when I didn't do as you asked. For example do you remember the time when I told you I didn't feel beautiful and you made me starve myself for three days and workout for two months, what about the time I told you I didn't want to have children till I was 20 and you told me no one would want me then and you'd never wait for my ****** to be ready to have a family. What about the times I tried to leave and you threatened to end your life, do you remember that? No... You probably don't. Because even when I close my eyes I can still see the half dozen emptied beer bottles on the floor of your ***** apartment in the background of the pictures of you with a gun to our head as you begged me to take you back. You told a 14 year old girl you put your life in her hands knowing they shook and trembled every time she heard your voice slur as you told her not to eat because she was fat or that it was her fault you beat her. you became the skeleton in my closet and the monster under my bed the ghoul peeking through the curtains and knife weilder in the laste nights. I became the dying flower in a glass jar, but unlike beauty in the beast every time a petal wilted to the ground like a tear sliding down y cheek you only got stronger. I was not your beauty, you didn't realize you were a beast. I don't know if I'll ever forgive you.

When I was a Girl who's only super power was sleeping and crawling
My mother passed away
Left my father to raise two young children all on his own
He gave up everything for us
Sold the restaurant he had spent years saving to build
The motorcycle he swore would always be his
The one that set off car alarms and ******* neighbors.

When I was a girl who's greatest superpower was my ability to make imaginary friends
I thought my dad was superman
He fixed scraped knees
Fended off scary bugs
And beat impossible levels on video games.
I never realized it but he did more noble feats than kiss booboos and squish spiders.
Money never came easy to us, most of the time my father stayed unemployed so he could raise two children with love
Raised us on the retirement from fighting like captain America for our country

When I was a girl who's super power consisted of seeing the good in the world I always wondered why my dad didn't eat with us most days
Or why the lights sometimes went off
And water was cold
I know now that my superhero chose to pay for food for us over bills
And spread Mac and cheese boxes to last a lifetime
He gave up the comfort of food so we could have full tummies
And for that I'll always be grateful

When I was a girl who's super power was selfishness
I hoped for a mother
Wished on every birthday cake and shooting star
Praying to one day have a mom.
I paid the price for my selfishness
My wish came true the day my dad brought his new fiancé home

When I was a girl who's superpower was invisibility
My stepmother told me my mom never wanted me
Called her a useless **** head
And called me stupid.
I saw my father less and less
And At first he swooped in to save me from the wounds of her words.
But she stole his cape.

I am a girl with the power to masquerade as a woman now
And I speak only a few words to my father a week
My stepmothers words still wound me
But she is my fathers kryptonite
Stripping him of his powers leaving behind a tired man.
she has pulled our family from poverty and for that I'm grateful
But I'll never forgive her being the reason my fathers cape lay folded in the closet.
And every time I hear my father say he misses me it sounds like an apology for the last six years!
And when I say it back
I hope he can hear the begging to see him more.
My dad used to tell me he loved me every night before I went to sleep
Now we go days without saying it.
Without seeing each other
And now every time I hear it whispered under his breath as he gives a quick hug so the hulk doesn't see
It still sounds like the booming voice of the hero who carried me all the way home at three after getting stung by a wasp on the webbing of my finger and sobbing like I was going to die
And I feel the lump in my throat swell every time I echo it back like sonar
And can still see whisps of a cape behind him as he diffuses dr.dooms time bomb by saying the dish in the sink is his and sneaking me a wink.
I refuse to lose my dad to distance before I lose him to disease.

I am a girl learning how to control the power of the world around me
My father is dying.
Liver giving out from years of untreated disease after years of putting his health aside.
And he pulls oh his cape every time he smiles like a rain after a 100 year drought and tells me
'I'll be okay. You know I'm invincible.'
And I always say that I do forcing insincerity out of my voice.
I can see the weight of the cape he has worn for so long take its toll
His back is arching from the weight of having to be strong
A bulletproof savior of this family.
So I will take it from him.
Bear the burden of being strong and putting others needs before me.
I will shelter him under it whenever deadshot's bullets of insults come flying.
Because even though at times I thought I lost him.
With or without a cape
My farther is still my hero.

And I am a girl learning to be his.

When I am laying down at night I can tell that the world is my backpack and I am carrying it through space.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.