here’s a lie to keep you living
a veil of truth to shade your eyes
what searing pains your body has endured
are illusions from your mind

it’s nothing big, it’ll be alright
you shout above the cacophony upstairs
my monsters have just come out to play
they do that, you know, in my nightmares

we dance an endless waltz with darkness
and convince ourselves we’re fine
so what if we haven’t seen the sun in months
we’re alive, we swear, we’re not dying

but what happens when we stop showing up?
are we still here, or no?
does anybody miss us
or stop to ask “where did they go?”

will they notice the lack of color
will they miss our favorite songs?
will they wonder how we lived
with all of this darkness for so long?

nah, they won’t notice
it’s all an illusion anyway
at least that’s what the doctor said
that, and $150 for your stay

-rgp

i am apathetic.
which is funny, for an empath
to go from feeling too much
to feeling nothing
what stress caused the strings to break within me?
what bitterness and hatred caused a sudden lack of feeling?
oh
chronic depression
you’re back.
****.
-rgp

i think you hurt me
and i think,
at the time at least
i liked it.

i liked that someone listened to me
that should’ve been the first red flag
no one listens to me
i mean no one like you listens to me.

and i didn’t think it odd or inappropriate
i’m gay,
i told you
i didn’t think you were a threat
and that should’ve been the second.

i didn’t think it was weird
when you asked me for selfies
because people swap selfies, right?
i’ve sent some pretty hideous double chinned bedhead dead eyed selfies to my girlfriend
how is it any different if it’s to a guy friend?

except it was different
you asked to see my thigh gap
my feet
my lordotic back because you wanted to see how my muscular dystrophy affected me
physically.
that should’ve been the third.

you called me pet names.
you told me you loved me.
you said you would always be there for me when no one else was.
fourth. fifth. sixth.

at first i thought it endearing and a platonic kind of love.
but you don’t say those things to a girl you met on the internet
i don’t.

i struggle saying those three words.
they weigh me down and make me choke on air when i try to say them out loud
so when you insisted i say them back, that you wouldn’t stop bugging me until i did,
i panicked
typed them, hit “send”
and cried later
and you told me it’s no big deal, everyone says “i love you”
not me. never me.
seventh flag.

you told me you’d visit
you told me we were meant to be
like a ****** up romeo and juliet
you spent your nights talking me down off of suicidal ledges
you thought you saved me
you kept telling me to just ******* eat, that starving myself was stupid, that you couldn’t have me die on you, that you were supposed to die first
“death is not a race,” i said
“you’ll win anyway if i don’t save you,” you replied
eighth flag.
i didn’t like it anymore.

i think you hurt me.
i can’t be too sure since you’ve convinced me you were just being friendly but i’m starting to come out of this fog you’ve put me in
and i do believe
you’ve hurt me.

-rgp

her eyes are bloodshot and dried out
she hasn't blinked in hours
a screen flickers on and off
just as her mind floats in and out of consciousness

there's shadows on the ceilings
like ones she left behind in the city

she remembers a smile
and jolts upright in bed
there's a smile that haunts her

the sun rises in a couple hours
and she is still awake.

-rgp

At 10:00 am, less than 100 students walked out to the flagpole
for our school's second walkout.
While there was less than one fourth of the population from the first walkout,
it was so much more powerful.
So many voices were heard.
We screamed, cried, laughed, read poems,
and all silently wished for a riot; wished for change.
We all wished that we didn't have to do this.
Wished that we didn't have to fear being shot at school,
the place where we are supposed to be safest.
But in that moment,
we were one.
We hugged, rested our heads on each other's shoulders,
and were one giant support system.
We are going to make change.

what happens when i no longer like your pink, sweet, version of me you’ve curated?
what would happen if i erased all colour completely?

no, i’m not talking about choosing blue over pink or yellow or green
“gender neutral” clothing isn’t any shade on the colour wheel

i’m talking about if i never associated the colour pink with femininity
and blue with masculinity

and yellow and green with “gender neutrality”

what if my life was just void of colour?

like if i were to say i didn’t feel like a girl nor a boy
nor the brief possibility of both

i just feel
like that grey space in between the most diluted shades on the colour wheel

would you still force me to call myself “daughter”?

I had always thought
That out of all the
Colors
In the world
Yellow was the worst
The embodiment of
Cowardice
Betrayal
The bright color burned at my eyes
But
My darling
As we stand in the dark
And you tuck a
Yellow rose
Behind my ear
I think
Maybe
Yellow
Isn't so bad
After all
My dear

I used to believe
That
Yellow
Was the most
Beautiful
Color
The embodiment of
The sun
Your soul
And the golden roses
That sat upon our table
Waiting for me after a long day
From you
The bright color kissed at my eyes
But
My darling
As we stand in the light
Those roses darken
And wilt
As our love grows old
And brown
Instead of the yellow
I think
Maybe
Yellow
Isn't good
After all
My dear

Now I sit here
Knowing the truth
Yellow isn't
Good
Or
Bad
It's a color
And the memories
Behind it
Make it what it is
But
My darling
I cannot decide
Whether I
Hate
Or
Love
The color
For it was the color of
Forgotten love
The color of
Fights and dark days
The color of
Betrayal
But yet
I cannot bring myself to hate it
For it is still
The color
Of the roses
That you lay
Upon my gravestone
Every year
My dearest
My darling
My love