Perfection is the worst
Yet I want it so bad
So everyone will leave me alone.

Perfection is the worst
Because it doesn’t even exist
But it’s still expected of me.

Perfection is the worst
Trapping me in forms
Locking my joints in place.

Perfection is the worst.

Sixteen is safe.
1...2...3...4…5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14...­15...16
Count to sixteen
To simply refresh.

Sixteen is safe.
1...2...3...4…5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14...­15...16
Count to sixteen, sixteen times in a row
To calm down.

Sixteen is safe.
1...2...3...4…5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14...­15...16
Count to sixteen, sixteen times in a row, sixteen times a day
To stay sane.

Six is wrong.
1...2...3...4…5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14..­.15...16
Six is dangerous.
Don’t interrupt at six.

Sixteen is safe.
1...2...3...4…5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14...­15...16
I restart everyday.
First one when I wake up.

1...2...3...4…5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14...1­5...16

The page is still blank
I can’t think of words
I can’t put my feelings out there
This God awful white
Needs to be painted
But I can’t find the right color.

My family is so big,
Too big.
I always feel forgotten,
Unneeded,
Unloved.
I think it’s gotten so big,
That I’m not even part of it anymore.

I need a hug from someone who doesn't feel sorry for me.
Unfortunately, I don't think there's any left.

You say LOL
After I sent TGIF.
But really?
Should I laugh?
This week has been awful.
I feel the weight of the world.
Stuck in my own head.
I’m soaking wet from being drenched in my thoughts.
I want to go home.
SOL.
Not to the home that I hate.
To my dad’s house
Where I can forget for a moment,
That life’s not all that GR8.

Screaming.
From the bedroom four doors down.
From inside my own head.
From my dad, as he leaves.

Screaming.
From the bedroom three doors down.
From inside my own head.
From my oldest brother, as he leaves.

Screaming.
From the bedroom two doors down.
From inside my own head.
From my next brother, as he leaves

Screaming?
No, the next door is passed.
Nothing is wrong.
Targets aren’t painted for the adopted.

Knock, knock.
The door.

What a great day to be a McKay.

I am here, sitting in the center of the tornado.
Everything moving quickly.
I am here, while noise fills up the room all at once
But nothing said goes unheard to me.

I am here, and everything around seems so happy
While I am here, feeling the weight of the world.
I’m here, while everything seems so bright
Yet I’m still stuck in a deep dark pit.

I am here…
Here I am…
Am I here…?

I’m a little queasy right now
As I avoid looking at the needle
And when it penetrates my skin
The direct pain last one second
But the mental war has been going for days
In anticipation
And the sting is still there
And the smell of disinfectant is stuck in my nose.
And as long as the queasiness lasts
The possibilities stand
Of fainting
With seizures
Or throwing up
Or the head splitting migraines
So I lie down
Waiting
Waiting for the queasiness to go
For the headache to leave
And the possibilities to fade
It’s hard to remember that it’s for good
Helping the future me
When my arm is numb
Feeling like I’m growing faint

I feel a great guilt
When I think to myself
She is the worst.
I know deep down, she does love me
At least more than she should
I’m the one who tells her she’s not being fair
I’m the one who says she’s the worst
For loving all of her kids, except me
For giving more attention to the others
For wrecking my whole life
So many times over
Sometimes it feels like she doesn’t see me anymore
Like she doesn’t think I’m as smart as everyone tells me I am
So I deny their complements, because if she can’t see it, then it’s not there
And then I complain
I focus on all the things she does that make me feel so sad inside
I can’t see that she’s trying to help me
Out of worry
I take note that she never says I love you just because
It’s only when she thinks I need it, or when she knows I’m upset with her
I see that all she wants is to be liked
But really she’s trying to be there for me when I need it
I feel a great guilt
When I think to myself
She is the worst.
But she’s trying
And she does love me
More than she should
Because in all honesty
I am the worst
Please forgive my guilt.

Thousands of hearts are strung on the wall
I grab your hand and jump off the cliff
Taking the Great Fall
Landing in the cool waters below
Submerging us in love

Fair-Haired Hero
With graceful motions
You are a bird without wings
Dancing in the meadows
With daisy chains
Just as the sun is setting
And the beautiful light
Hits your gorgeous red hair
Making elegant flames dance
You are a Fair-Haired Hero

Fair-Haired Hero
Sweet as candy
Baby little girl
So loved and cherished
What a beautiful girl you’ll grow up to be
Caring and passionate
Welcoming to almost everyone
The hugs you give are told to grow smiles
The kisses you blow said to be magical
You are a Fair-Haired Hero

Fair-Haired Hero
I watch from afar
As you dance and glide
While the sunlight makes your red hair seem aglow
I’m the only one you don’t seem to be welcoming to
It’s me who you always frown at, never hug, and never blow your sweet kisses to
And it hurts my feelings until I see you dancing in  the sunlight
I see your strength and your power
You are my Fair-Haired Hero.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
The melody is sweet,
And so are you.

Orchids are white,
Ghost ones are rare,
Cinnamon is brown,
And so is your hair.

Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
The term is long,
And so are your legs.

Sunflowers reach,
Up to the skies,
Waters are calm,
And so are your eyes.

Foxgloves in hedges,
Surround the farms,
Weather is warm,
And so are your arms.

Daisies are pretty,
Daffies have style,
Your relationship is rewarding,
And so is your smile.

A daisy is beautiful,
Just like you.

You and Me
Me and You
Infinitely
Universally

Umm...
Undermining
My
Mind
Dot of the unsure
Dot of the lies
Dot of the worry

Not sure whether to raise my hand or not.
I know the answer, but...
Flashing memories
Of all the name calling
Of all the crying
Of all “I’m fine”s
When really I’m not.

Not sure whether to tell the truth or not.
I know what I feel, but…
Flashing memories
Of all the screaming
Of all the hiding
Of all the “I feel good”s
When really I don’t.

Not sure whether to show the pain or not.
I know where the pain is coming from, but…
Flashing memories
Of all the fake worried faces
Of all the anxiety attacks
Of all the “I’m okay”s
When really I’m not.

Umm…
Undermining
My
Mind
Dot of the unsure
Dot of the lies
Dot of the worry

A line of 100 little girls on the shore
All have a heart that’s torn
Fighting their own civil war
But don’t know what their standing for

Some are fighting for affection
Maybe a few stand for perfection
A load trying to make corrections
One or two just hate their inner reflection

A line of 100 little girls all cry and bawl
All cut from the same shawl
Broken pieces of the same doll
Bricks from the same wall

Some are tattered
Maybe a few are shattered
A load feeling splattered
One or two are completely battered

A line of 100 little girls all broken
Feeling chosen
Until their hearts feel stolen
Crashing from the same moment.

Some are there because they were bad
Maybe a few are there because they were sad
A load that felt mad
One or two felt glad

A line of 100 little girls with stones above their head
They’re all dead
They’ve gone to bed
More to come, just hanging by a thread

Some couldn’t hold on
Maybe a few just wanted to be gone
A load that didn’t want to see another dawn
One or two were just withdrawn

A line of 100 little girls’ graves
Stuck in my heart’s darkest caves
Chaining my limbs like slaves
Let me drown in the crashing waves.

Walk up the steps,
          Sit on the stool,
                  Adjust the mic,
                         face the lights,
                               And sing.

Strum the strings,
Hear how your voice rings.
Close your eyes,
And shed your disguise.

Sing about the things you feel,
The things that don’t seem real .
Sway with the song,
And hear the crowd sing along.

Don’t think about stumbling on the words,
Or tripping over the cords.
Hear the melody and hum,
Think about the applause sure to come.

All your problems left when you stepped on the stage,
Now it’s up to you to finish the song, to write another page.
It may seem like hell
But you gotta step out of that shell

Strum the strings,
Hear how your voice rings.
Close your eyes,
And shed your disguise.

I promise that everything’ll be alright,
You’ll win the fight.
The stage fright won’t last long,
So sing your song.

Walk up the steps,
               Sit on the stool,
                          Adjust the mic,
                                  Face the lights,
                                                And sing.

The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
And I hung my head and I cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
The brightest star of my life,
The light of my day,
The cause of the tingling warmth in my heart.
The only smile I search for in a crowded room,
The only voice I listen to when you’re up on the stage,
The only person I miss when I’m feeling lonely.

I'll always love you and make you happy
If you will only say the same
But if you leave me to love another
You'll regret it all some day

You make me happy when skies are grey.
When I’m down in the dumps,
When I’m feeling like no one loves me,
When I’m hating myself,
Your arms around me are what I want to feel,
Your smile is what I wish to see,
Your sweet words are what I want to hear.

You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between
But now you've left me and love another
You have shattered all my dreams

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
How much I need you,
How much I want you to be here with me,
How much I miss you when you’re away.
I hope you can see what you mean to me,
I hope you know I’ll be here for you like you are for me,
I hope you don’t change your mind.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

Please don’t take my sunshine away.
There are many things that would make you leave,
There are many things that could dim your light,
There are many things that could cause a supernova.
Please don’t take my sunshine away,
Please don’t take my sunshine away,
Please don’t take my sunshine away.

The phone goes round and round.
What could this all mean?
And at two o’clock in the morning, really what could dad need right now?
One by one, I see the faces drop.
And the phone goes round and round.

Why won’t they let me talk to him next?
Why won’t they just tell me what’s going on so I can go back to bed?
Why are they all looking at me like that, with fear and worry behind glazed eyes?
Why will no one answer my questions?
And the phone goes round and round.

Oh dear god, just one person away.
I have my guesses as to what this is.
I’m crying already and the phone hasn’t even come to me yet.
The list of people who I think might be it.
Who might be gone.
And the phone passes to me.

Hello?
‘Cancer’
And just like that my life was flipped.
The world fades,
As I pass out from crying too hard.
And the phone goes round and round.

It was worse for me,
Watching someone die is loads worse than them just being dead.
You see them suffer and you see their pain.
It becomes so hard to look,
Because you become too scared to see the death.
And I remember the phone going round and round.

How could it be him?
So strong, so brave, so gallant,
Struck down by cancer.
The one person that never ran through my head,
When I listed people who I expected died.
That awful phone went round and round.

When my time came, a month later,
I had so much to say,
Just in case I never saw him again.
I love you, you’re doing great, keep fighting…
Please.
That awful phone went round and round.
The problem was that I never said anything.
It was too hard to see the pain you were trying to hide,
But I saw it, and couldn’t see past,
So when it was time to leave, I said my love,
Banking on the fact that he’d be there for Christmas.
That awful phone went round and round.

Six months later, the phone came out again.
And my tears fell, last again to get the phone.
I’ll never see him again.
It’s hard to remember that he’s not in pain anymore,
When you see that awful phone going round and round.

I heard you said that I was pretty,
But it was obviously a mistake.
How could a guy like you
Have feelings for me?
I'm not cool or good looking.
Not funny or slimming.
Nor am I formal,
Half the time I'm just trying to be normal.

I get the feeling that you're proud of me,
Are you wrong, too?
I'm not as smart as the smartest kids,
But not as average as the averages.
No one ever notices me try and do something,
So how'd you figure that you noticed my nothings?
'Cause last time I checked, I was a bore.
When I talked to you, you walked toward the door.

I see that you are smiling at me,
Those white pearls showing.
That doesn't make much sense to me
Because no one likes me the way I am.
I've had fake friends before,
But this seems real as well as odd.
I'm too closed up and definitely too weird.
Too different for anyone as normal as you with all your previous nasty sneers.

This is weird,
It just isn't right.
No one can love me,
At least not the way I am.
I just wish I could see what is fake and what is real,
Because now I don't know how to feel.

You liking me,
That's just not right,
It doesn't make sense,
And it makes me confused.

That's just not right

I am from
Harry, Ron and Hermione
And Cather and Levi
From Frodo, Gandalf, and Gollum.

I am from my dad’s quirky jokes,
And him laughing at me when I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

I am from Star Wars
And old 90s movies like Empire Records and Dazed and Confused
From my mom’s awful teary movies
And my favorites like Harry Potter and Strawberry Shortcake movies.

I am from John Denver, Johnny Cash, and Frank Turner.
And singing with my sister as we jumped on our beds.
I am from my dad’s record player
And my mother’s rapping with her car dance moves on road trips.

I am from scratches from the cat
That my dad found in his car.
From the dog who snuck in my room
to disassemble my book covers and sneaking back to my brother.

But I am also from yelling from the bedroom
And holes in the walls from my dads strong arms
From nap time while my dad moved out
And only seeing him 10 days a month
And then down to only 4

I am from moving
Brookings to Sioux Falls and repeat and repeat and repeat
From my Dad’s Divorce Trailer
And my mom moving us around every 2 to 5 years.

I am from never having a best friend for more than 3 years
And always trying “too hard” at school.
From sitting in the library while I wait for recess to end.
And befriending the person that people thought was annoying when no one else would.

I am from fear
Of my mother’s punishments or my stepdad’s wrath
From being asked if I’d rather live with my dad if I like it there so much
And from being a failure that only gets disappointment from their mom
But, hey, at least she’d be giving me some attention.

I am from my father’s anxiety that was passed down to me.
And my mother’s “Irish” temper, as she calls it.
From my grandma’s passive attitude, pushing things deep down,
Until I blow up like a volcano, but the ammo doesn’t leave.

I am quite glad that this is what I am from.
I wouldn’t be me if I couldn’t fall into books when I wanted to leave but couldn’t.
I wouldn’t be me without the bitter fights and split either.
These things that I am from might seem little or seem overwhelming, but I assure you,
Without all the pieces of this puzzle, you wouldn’t be able to see this stellar picture,
I would not be the me that you all think you can perfectly see.

Stop!
They don’t really like you.
They are only being nice because of who your family is.
They’re using you.
You’re not good enough to have real friends.
How could you possibly think you were good enough?
You’re too weird.
One day when your family doesn’t matter they’ll drop you with a snap of their fingers,
Just.
Like.
That.

Hold on!
Your mom doesn’t love you.
She has every reason not to.
You’re your father’s kid, girl,
Just having the same genes as him could probably get you kicked out.
You ***** up to much, such a disappointment.
She has plenty of kids, you and your brothers aren’t needed to make this family work.
She has a handpicked child, and two more that are perfect,
Red hair, taller, bigger, better, and simply not a McKay.

Wait just a second!
He doesn’t actually think you’re pretty.
You know you’re ugly and the glasses make it worse.
He is tricking you.
No one will ever truly like you.
You’re not pretty enough, smart enough, cool enough.
Face it, you are just one big fat fraud.
And even if someone actually did like you,
They would change their mind quickly because you’re messed up.

I hope you know, everything is your fault!
God gave up on you, that’s why I tell you not to pray, you are beyond repair.
Your parents’ divorce, not having friends, not being pretty, me, it’s all your fault.
I’m in here screaming at the top of my lungs, diverting your attention, because of you.
And I will never leave, in fact, as you grow up, day by day I’ll add.
Self-doubt, Anxiety, Depression, Loneliness.
And they won’t leave either.
We will always be here, reminding you that you’re a failure, and won’t ever be enough.
...Until you stop trying...

The driveway of my house has potholes and washed up chalk residue.
Markings from bike tires and cars that come and go.
I try and try to get to the car by the curb that’s been parked there since I was born,
But the driveway seems to get longer and longer, and longer.

My house sits at the back end of this driveway.
With traps that visitors can’t seem to find,
And yelling matches that can’t be heard through it’s impervious walls.
And so I run and run and run, never reaching the end of this dumb driveway.

If you ask the people who have or haven't reached their car,
They all have different opinions.
It all depends on the person-- no… the past.
Who’s been seen, who’s been heard, who’s been loved, and who’s been misunderstood.

We may be wrong, or we may be right
But we don’t care
Because all we want to do is reach the gosh **** car at the end of this Rotten driveway
That feels longer every time we trip, fall, or bend to re-tie our porous shoes

I don’t yet understand that these falls and knots that I make now will help me to learn to drive,
So when I reach that car on this idiotic driveway’s curb
I’ll be able to grasp the steering wheel
And drive, away of course.

When I back out of this rundown, beat-up, defeated driveway
I’ll think of the path it took me on.
Maybe all the scratches and bruises I’ll have by the end of this pavement
Will tell me different tales from the perspective of the rocks and cement.

Life seems rough looking back at the torn up house from this ever-stretching driveway,
Because no one remembers the good,
the colorful chalk pictures and the shiny new bikes
And maybe we won’t ever remember unless it’s all behind us and we reach that car on the curb of this
gosh ****, ever-stretching, rundown, beat-up, defeated, dumb, idiotic, Rotten, long, long, long driveway,
But i will always call it home.

Building in the workshop, slowly fixing a little girl
who looked up to this extraordinary man who loved her so much
Even without the same bloodline in their veins, she chose him out of seven.
He didn’t seem as though he was disappointed or ashamed of her.
He just loved to see her happy, while building toys and rabbit traps.
Loved seeing her smile as he taught her how to use the saw
and cut through her family’s civil war
And hammer the nails, called bad feelings down into her mood board,
Knock, Knock, Knock, Slam

Sitting on the porch with a not as little girl at his side,
Watching the birds, and the deer, and the grass.
He sees the inner bickering, in the girls head.
She had figured out that she was broken,
She just wanted to be fixed.
He wanted her to know
That walking on old broken glass from the once clear window
Will only cut you more and make you bleed harder.
So he handed her the mood board
And started to read aloud charlotte's web,
As the little taps began.
Knock, Knock, Knock, Slam.

Laying, cold as a corpse in his hospital bed,
She never saw it but it’s was she went through her head
As her mother, one morning, deadpanned that Bob was dead.
My favorite grandparent had died
For months on end, the moderately grownup girl couldn’t get it outta her head,
That she refused to look at him the last time that she could
Because she was afraid that he was empty, that he was different,
That the purely good man was slipping out.
She hadn’t been with him when he finally needed her help.
So she cried when no one was looking and missed so bad.
Broke down in the places she felt the least broken.
She went to her first funeral as the only child there.
Her mood board has one spot left,
She’d been saving for the day that lung cancer won
So she pounded out one more
Knock, Knock, Knock, SLAM.

I don’t remember ever being this happy.
Or at the very least I don’t remember being happier than this.
Who knows, maybe I’m just focusing on the bad parts of life too often.
But I’m not right now.
Right now I’m so happy.
So very Unnaturally Happy.

It’s weird because I feel so full, even on the worst days, that smile makes my day.
And it feels even better when I smile right back.
I feel loose, I feel free, I feel like I need to savor this feeling because maybe it won’t stay long,
But here I am now, I’m so happy.
So very Unnaturally Happy.

I don’t think that phrase will last.
I don’t think I’ll be Unnaturally Happy for much longer.
Maybe never again.
One day, maybe soon, it’ll be normal.
I’ll just be so happy.
So very Happy.

Nothing

Nothing is too hard to explain.
It’s emptiness, but not really.
It’s like the feeling is there,
But the feeling of the feeling has been ****** out?
I know I’m happy when my boyfriend is smiling at me,
Like I’m the only person worth living for,
But I don’t feel happy.
I feel…
Nothing.

Why is my most important feeling Nothing?
And why is it so hard to explain?
This is the worst feeling I’ve ever had,
And it’s unexplainable because it’s Nothing.
I’m not feeling hungry or tired,
Or warm or cold.
I feel…
Nothing.

It’s different every time,
And it doesn’t happen often.
All I know is that I’m set off,
And then when I wake up the next day,
I’m just a big empty void.
Like looking through a camera lense, not actually in the moment.
I feel…
Nothing.

Sometimes it takes a nasty turn.
Like last time.
I was mad at myself for not feeling.
For not crying every night from my emotional pain.
Because he died, and I messed up, and I wasn’t there
So I made myself feel pain, but when I don’t
I feel…
Nothing.

But sometimes it is what it is.
It’s Nothing.
It’s like a break from all the anger, all the pain, all the crappiness I feel.
I just feel empty, like I’m waiting to be turned back on.
I’m stuck on sleep mode, like I’m not on, but I’m not off either.
And everything slowly turns on, everything is updated but still,
I feel…
Nothing.

Sometimes it lasts longer.
More than two months or just a few days.
Taking forever for everything to fully come back.
And I get angry thoughts the longer it lasts,
But when I go to yell out my frustration,
The feeling gets ****** out.
I feel…
Nothing.

Nothing is too hard to explain.
And when your just feeling Nothing, and people keep asking what’s wrong,
You can’t explain it right, because all you’re feeling is Nothing.
So they honestly think nothing is wrong.
And they technically are right,
They just don’t know.
I feel…
Nothing.

I’m feeling…
Nothing.

I saw all of those empty cigarette boxes in the back of your car.
And I felt disappointment, yes, but that wasn’t all.
I also felt like you were slipping through my fingers.
Like I wasn’t holding on to you tight enough.
Like you were submitting yourself to an endless doom, that one day would end you,
And I just couldn’t stop you.
You were fading with every light up.
You said you stopped, and I believed you.
But then things went wrong.
I wasn’t there to hold on to you.
I wasn’t there to help you calm down.
It took me a while to see them again,
But eventually your hiding tactics failed.
They got flimsy and careless.
And all I can think about now
Is how one day I’ll be looking at the proof.
One day you’ll be lying in hospital bed
Living as lifeless as you’ve always looked.

I'm Tired of Playing Board Games

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of playing chess,
Always being the pawn.
Defending the King and Queen,
Distracting the other team.
It can be useful when you trade it in,
But when the pawn's taken away,
No one cares, they just keep playing the game.

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of playing Monopoly,
Always in jail,
Just 'cause my luck landed me on the wrong square.
While it's been fun watching everyone rage quit since 2009,
My little thimble can't take one more lap past the go line,
Because it always comes back to me broke, and out of the game.

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of playing Apples to Apple.
Always pull the dead end cards.
People question
My random answers.
I never win, so I watch the other victory dancers.
Someone has five green card, the game is done, I look down and
                       see none

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of playing Operation,
Always buzzed at the slightest mistake.
Yelling at the board, "Why won't this funny bone come out!?"
I try and try but it always ends with a shout.
The board obviously has a short circuit, just not for anyone else.

Life is not a board game, well technically it is,
With the tiny cars and tiny people, all trying to get to retirement.
That's besides the point.
What I'm trying to say is that life isn't a board game,
but sometimes it seems like it works just the same.

I feel like I defend my family and friends, but am always replaced.
I feel like I rolled unlucky dice and landed on Divorced Parents.
I feel like I'm pulling all the bad cards,
Anxiety, depression, self doubt, social problems, and more.
I feel like my car isn't going anywhere.
I feel like I'm doing everything wrong,
As I hear a distant buzz of another panic attack coming along.
I'm tired of playing these board games.

Life is not a board game,
It is, but that's not my point.
Life isn't a board game,
But it will keep feeling that way
As long as I keep thinking this way.

I need to find a happy hope.
Past not being my parents.
Past not breaking down every night.
Past jumping through a portal to wield a light saber,
                 Rather than squeeze my empty fists from anxiety.
Past going to Hogwarts by train.
This happy hope might sound insane,
but I think I just want to make this a good game.