I saw you today.

I'm starting to get tired of wasting my time
hoping for something that will never be.

I can still hear your voice ringing in my ears
hours after you have gone.

Is that crazy?

I feel crazy.

I can still see your eyes light up
when you smile.

Sometimes I wish it was me
making you smile.

But that's okay.

It's all okay.

I'm going to keep my distance
even though that never seems to work.
I'm just glad
I saw you today.

they tell me that self care
is one of the most important things
you can do for yourself.

okay,
but like,
how exactly do i do that?

i tried lighting scented candles.
they were nice
but the scent began to fade away
just like my friends.

oops,
did i say that?

i tried taking a warm shower,
but the moment i stepped out,
it was cold.
i regretted getting in
to begin with,
just like my experience with boys.

i tried sleeping,
but eventually i had to wake up,
and sometimes there were nightmares.
it's nice to just go unconscious for hours
but not so much when drifting
gets you nowhere,
just like in life.

the internet just stresses me out,
no matter how many
candy pulling videos
i watch
(don't ask,
they're relaxing)

i'm pretty sure my stress is
unchanged
by all this.

i'm tired.
can i just go back to bed?

the envy of water is truer than i
ever imagined it being. i can look
through you, i can see the charade
you are playing every moment

i reminded you i existed under
you, that i needed air and room
to breathe in the starlight of his
voice and the thickness of the sky

and i see you push me away, repress
me further into oblivion until i cannot
see the light for which i yearn, the
dampness of a tomb is all which reaches

this far down. and i know that to you-
and for you- at least this time, i am small
and insignificant. you are afraid of me and
the voice i possess and the cracks in your shield.

you can't put me away for much longer.
not unless you want to wonder why i
am around every corner shaking you until
you are afraid to move, why i cannot stop

thumping on your chest until the hurricane
on your tongue hushes itself and dissolves
into a perpetual calm, or why the mildness
of winter can't invoke a reaction anymore.

you colored me a funny shade
of aquamarine

but you faded me out until
i was more infinity than ivory.

In the hours between midnight and dawn
is when the world is most peaceful-
at least, that's what
I
think.

I don't feel peace often
but when I do
it's filled with
thinking about the ones
I love,
or,
at least I think I love.

It's spent daydreaming-
but is it daydreaming
if it's not day?

Honestly I'm still really confused
as to why I'm happy
and how I feel
about
you.

Or how I feel
about anybody.

So I'll just embrace this moment of calm,
peace,
serenity,
and use it to figure out
why I seem to adore
you
and why
I seem to fear
you
and why
I don't know how I feel about
you.

You
are
such
a
mystery

to me.

How come, even though
I know it isn't wrong,
I still feel
guilty,
disgusting,
like I am doing something
very
wrong?

I'm trying so hard to sleep
to forget what I've done
because what if you were right?

What if my guilt
that I haven't placed yet
is God's punishment
for being
sinful?

I almost wish we never
had that conversation.
I was uncomfortable
and I didn't realize
what I was getting myself
into.

I don't blame you
for making me feel this way,
it is my own insecurity
that is making me wish
I never abandoned
religion
at
all.

Maybe if I was on
God's good side
again
I wouldn't be having this
dilemma.

It's been ages
and I feel dumb,
I know what I should do
but honestly I'm too scared
to do it.

So I'm going to lie here
and work up the courage
to pray,
because I'm tired
of feeling lost
and feeling
shame.

please, my love.
i can see the tension from behind
the screen and it's not towards
me but it's coming from you
because of the way her words
freeze into daggers

please, don't let her touch you.
she will only drive you further
into the depths of your mind where
the sun cannot find you and
i'm not sure if you'll ever come back

please, let me help you.
there isn't much i can do but when
i see the letters change from small to
large i can tell that's what your thoughts
are doing too and it scares me

please, force her to see you.
you are your own person with your own
thoughts and dreams and she is trying
to take that away from you so she can
keep it to herself as if you were a doll
or the answer to her problems

please, we are all concerned about you
i know it's getting worse and i know
your pride is too strong but when
the sky falls even superman would need
some help from his friends

she does not own you.
she wants to use you for herself
and even if you tell her no she
will cry and beg and blame
because she doesn't care that you
are stronger than she thinks

she thinks you are hers.

you do not belong to anyone.

please,

remember i am here beside you.
i cannot fix you or anyone or her
ego but really all of us are here

please,

be careful my love.

If there were some words
Or a poem to write
To keep your heart strong
Help you keep up your fight

It'd be these
So I try all I can
I can't really save you
But I'll take your hand

I can hold you and hug you
Or keep you nearby
I can dry up your tears
Whenever you cry

And if ever you need
Someone to lean on
I'm here for you, dear-
You're never alone.

i'm sorry
what am i sorry for?
only God knows

but i would like to know
why
you can hold a beautiful girl
so lovingly between your fingertips
when but a year ago
it was me

you never loved me
i was there to satisfy your appetite
and now whenever i come over
i panic and cannot breathe,
as if you ****** the air out of my lungs
all those months ago

you held me like you loved me
i loved you
but you just thought we would be friends
with a little extra on the side

or how about the one before that,
never meeting in person
but giving myself away
the first chance i got?

it wasn't until he told my best friend
that landing in the hospital was karma
for me being a stupid *****
and then telling me
i was still on his "bucket list"
that i realized
who he was.

or even before that,
a beautiful boy.
seven months
i mistreated him
i broke him into pieces
which can never be healed
but i still remember how cold i felt
lying there afterwards

and the most recent one
didn't even want to play,
but i somehow won in the end
i wanted to feel loved
but i didn't know how or when
to say no

i'm not saying any of this is the fault
of these people

it's actually all mine

i played to get something i wanted

and i regret it now
and wish i was still clean
like pure snow

and i'm sorry

i'm sorry for playing with fire
i'm sorry for being afraid to say no
i'm sorry for wanting to feel loved
i'm sorry for using my body
to feel something

i still freeze up when i'm scared.

i have known you for years
and when i say years
i mean it feels
like eternities

i mean the sketches i have
tucked away in an old journal
feel like they were formed
in mountain ridges

i think the edges
of our friendship
are tucked away in the corners
of your favorite jacket

and are protected

from the harsh winds

of chance

i like looking through old
yearbooks
and of all the students throughout
history
never have i found one
like you

you are unique to those
who know you
and to those who don't

and yet those that don't
can't see how

your eyes
lower when you smile
but even
nightfall
couldn't dull their shine

your hands
grip
a sketchbook-
your child, i presume

your face
lights up
and becomes an autumn
sunset
when you remember
that thing you meant to say

but wait-

never mind

you calculated our reactions
and though i insist
you do not budge

but the
mischievous glint
remains

and i must ask

am i allowed...

is it okay if...

would you mind if i...

but i cannot
say

how being near you
overwhelms me
with this energy

perhaps

the warmth
will burn me
from the inside

and

perhaps

you will flash me
that smirk

and i will melt?

am melting?

have been melting?

i cannot explain except
that you are the reddish-gold
of crisp
air

you are
the
bubble
of
chills
in the crook
of my neck

i see you
in dreams

you don't act
like you would

but i know
it's you

i do not stand
a chance with you

i cannot
breathe
my heart
to you

i am afraid

you are

too

perfect

~

although

you

cannot

see

it

i cannot continue
to empty out
an already empty water jug

curled in the frosted grass
my skin is sliced
by a tiny sword
leaving this rash
of dots
all over my hands

hot air
and extreme defiance
has been coursing through my veins

i wish i looked as sick
as i feel inside
because then i could subsist on
giggles and green tea
and perhaps
blood transfusions
and
saline
and
exhaustion

peculiar creature
digs in the rocky earth
with a twig
meant as kindling

peculiar creature
is content
dwelling alone

like Pluto
once recognized
soon dismissed

i wish this
tea was spiked
with more honey
or more hope
or more self worth

i never understood the appeal
of flowers

or why
they needed to be given
in bouquets

peculiar creature
lights a candle
and prays
to nobody

peculiar creature
feels nothing
but
peculiar

oh dear
who
will
stop
him
now?

exhaling the faith i had
in myself is nightly

neither of us allow
conversation to linger
and it's sickening

we're blindly pulling at
bedsheets for answers
neither of us want to acknowledge

i don't know what's happening

each day is different,
i can't tell if my unease
is with the assumptions
or with myself

i think i know what you want
(at least partway)
but my mind wants to resist
losing interest in fingertips and
the mismatched cues

your body tells me you
need the closeness

mine is afraid
of taking this further

i don't want this to become
another bad joke, laughing
in hindsight but doubting
my intentions, i just don't
know myself well enough

and every time i mention
i am unsure, you explain
that you can't tell nights apart

texts at midnight
with questionable wording -
we have to be alone for this
to work out like you'd expect

but at this point all i feel
is a little bit sick and somewhat
concerned for your sake

because i can't be a rock for you

i am overwhelmingly sorry

there's something different
about this time for me

something goes through me
that i cannot interpret

you told me that you try
to live life to the fullest
because you might not have
the fullness that others get from living

i almost wish you hadn't told me

because my eyes start to fill
when i think about you and
i wish i knew what to say

i know what it's like to hurt
so fully and deeply, to doubt
your days and know your clock
to be shorter than some

and to have to pull it together regardless

i want to tell you so badly
that i'm scared too,
that there's so much more
than what i've told you

i think i'm afraid that
we're too much alike

there is so much i'm afraid to ask you.

i want to know what it means
when it feels like a knife's blade
is trailing down your back whenever
anyone says ma'am or miss
but it doesn't carve into your flesh
the way you'd assume it might

i want to understand why i want
to carve and shape my chest
but don't mind if my curves stay
if it means i could wear a corset
and compress the rest of my body

i want to know why i am afraid to tell you
even though you're my best friend
and i know that you understand
and i know that you're here for me
but i'm afraid you will think
i am making it up as i go, like this
hasn't been long enough

but i have known something was wrong
for over a year

i didn't talk to you much then
even though i knew you for years

but i couldn't figure out why i was scared
why i am scared
why i have been scared of myself
and my body
and my mind
and i don't know where i am or what i'm doing
but i'm scared if i tell you now

it will be too late.

i know you know.

i don't have to tell you anything

but at the same time i know
that if i don't, you won't mold your words
around my mind, you won't plant
the flowers of change in your collar

and it's not because you wouldn't,

it's because i haven't given you a name for it.

one is a name you said reminded you of carnations

two is a name you told me existed

three is a name that even i am afraid to utter
because i don't feel right taking it from you
even if i tick all of the boxes perfectly.

it is a name i am not familiar with yet.

it is a name that would steal my parents' daughter
away from them

and it would not grant them a son either.

i want to talk about it so badly
but my lips won't form the words
and everyone around me has already
begun assimilating their language
without my telling them

i wish you would ask me what is wrong.

and i wish you would choose
'them'
for me.

I'm getting awfully tired
of being alone.

It's getting colder
and
I'm lonely
and I'm really
really
tired.

I'm tired of
being anxious
about everything

overthinking

being left out.

I guess I'm just too young
to know myself
and I'm tired
of that
too.

I'm also tired
of getting told
that although I'm special
I'm not quite
special
enough...

but I guess that's my fault.

I'm just so tired.

Sorry.

i'm so tired
but a tired that sleep cannot fix

i wish i could sleep all day and all night
so i wouldn't have to think

but i've been having nightmares.

i'm doing everything at once and yet nothing at all

"tell me if something is keeping you
from being the best student you can be"

how about i don't

because your mind isn't considered a disease

especially if you're an honors kid.

dear you,

she's not sure why
she even still brings it up
in her own head
because you are long gone by now

but she stopped falling for your tricks
a very long time ago.

she doesn't understand why
you were so demanding
of her time
and attention.

you were the knife against her throat,
and because she was afraid,
she went with you.

you were the only one on the other end
of the electric wire.
and because she felt powerless,
she let herself get electrocuted.

all she knew you for
was a photograph,
a username,
a mutual friend.

but you seemed to be a ghost
in her head,

unseen but persistent.

you hijacked your way
into the skin behind her ears,
and laughed when she heard
but couldn't see
you.

and when she finally had the courage
to shut you down,

you made her question
her own sanity and existence.
because of your
insecurities.

she can never forgive you
for that.

so dear you,

if she ever sees you walking
down the street
with a smile
painted in yellow
and green
and purple,

she will not approach you.

she will simply clasp her friend's hand tighter,
smile sweetly,
and add
a little
blue.

your walls of
salt and blood
beckon me back,
the fish carved into the ceiling
seem to say none
but
"welcome home, friend"

the bruises covering my arms
where the veins should be
tell your story,
my freezing blood
drums in my teeth,
i am unsure.

the white band around my wrist
is my only defining factor.

i am no different from the other kids
sick with exhaustion
and
sick with anxiety
and
sick.

cartoons from my childhood
are running on the tv
and the icy saline
creeps up my spine,
keeping my mind silent.

but really i am cold
and it is late
and i am tired,
but if i sleep
what if i never awaken?

it has happened before.

every time i nearly faint
the thought of going back
hammers my temples,
and i need the break.

but they are annoying
and the most dangerous places to be
alone with your thoughts.

am i insane for enjoying
being sick for a while?

but soon the loneliness
creeps back into my bed
and i cannot wait to leave

until i get back
and i wish i was alone
once again

i told him i could drive him home
after his safety was threatened
by the enter key.

he graciously thanked me
and curled into himself
the whole way home.

that evening, i asked him
if i had made the wrong choice
by smiling at him before school

all he said was no,
and that he appreciated my help
but that he was numb

today he asked me if i could
drive him home from school
next week

the quiver of his spacebar
was apparent to me even
without the barrier of speech,

his hesitance before
he touched the enter key
solidified the situation.

the enter key has hurt him
more than it has saved him
and i'll be honest with you

he is afraid to touch more
than just a key on the keyboard
he told me on the drive home

that he doesn't know affection
from inflection, that he recoils
at a handshake or hug

and honestly i don't blame him.
there are so many kinds of neglect
that even i can't name them all

but for someone who has been
left hanging in the dirt while the others
dance around them in circles

to simply accept how the world works
is absurd and unlikely. all of us
have our damages and we have all

been hurt by a touch.

so at the touch of an enter key
i tell him she lied to him
and he is, in fact, wonderful.

I don't really know why I try anymore.

The long phone calls,
the smiles and laughter,
you telling me how much you love
talking to me.

It burrows deep in my stomach-
the warmth, I mean,
and it begs to be expressed
with a hug
or a kiss
perhaps.

But you're older than I am,
and your laughter makes me feel
important, almost.
You tell me to live each day as if
it were my last
yet you can't see
that it took all my courage to ask you
to that stupid movie thing
at school.

And your voice
makes me smile.

But you want to know something?
I'm tired.
I'm tired of basing my emotions
on how other people think of me
even though somehow
I can't stop it.

So instead,
I'll take your smile,
your laughter,
the other girls whispering to me
"I know he likes you"
and your careful denial,
wrap it all up in shiny paper,
and place it under the Christmas tree
of trying to be
someone you'll want to remember.

so at what point
is this war?

the decisions
he makes

have very real
consequences.

we're setting
ourselves up

for failure.

i don't know
what i'm supposed to
think.

everything
is
a
mess.

should
i
be
scared
for
the
futu­re?

i mean
i already am
but like
what
do
i
do
next?

it's
solemn
out
here.

my body used to be sealed,
it was like i was my own chastity belt,
mouth kept shut,
never talking back,
narrowly slipping through the fingers of consumption.

the day i turned thirteen,
it was like a switch had been flicked,
like a dial had been turned
from zero to at least... thirteen.

i wasn't supposed to be a baby anymore,
i was supposed to be a teenager.
you know, the kind on disney channel,
the one that all the boys loved
and all the girls wanted to be.

i thought that growing up meant
i was no longer just my own.
i could give pieces away without breaking them off.

turns out, breaking off pieces of yourself
is inevitable,
and it
is not safe.
you become an apple,
or a piece of toffee
for somebody to tear between their teeth.

i was thirteen when one of my best friends
thought it was okay to grab me in public.

it was like i had turned to stone,
but not the tough kind of stone that would bruise you
if you hit it too hard.
no, i was like a snowman,
cold and immobile,
built of ice.

i was thirteen
when i realized it felt okay
to take what love you could get
when all he wanted
was my vulnerability through the phone
and all i wanted was a kiss
but i couldn't have it because
"he didn't love me like that"
despite the fact our hands could hold each other
for miles in any direction.

i was fourteen
when i stopped caring about what i did to my body
and instead cared about
what it did for other people.
my soul wasn't my own,
instead it was a foreign beast which suffocated my brain
with its tendrils.

i still can't decide which parts i'm okay with,
and which parts i'm not.

i was fifteen
when a boy insisted he had to have me.
when i told him i wouldn't send him pictures,
he said that i was a *****
who knew i was attractive,
and that everyone i knew hated me.
i later discovered
that apparently my being sick
was karma
for not letting him sink his claws into my flesh,
for not letting him smoke me,
or hold me between his teeth like a cigarette.

i was fifteen
when i discovered that two boys who i considered friends
were texting back and forth about how they could crucify me
in the most beautiful way
if only i was their God.
one of them was the same boy
that grabbed me.

i was fifteen
when all i ate
was rice cakes and boys' spirits.
i fed them however much they needed
while letting myself go hungry
so i could be perfect.

i was fifteen
when they realized i was just a toy,
a funny looking doll
for them to play pretend.
one of those walking, talking dolls,
the kind that mistook loneliness for love,
the kind that thought her body was the only thing about her
that could be used as a welcome mat,
the kind that heard a lot of
"you're not my usual type, but you'll do,"
balanced on top of half-hearted effort
and a hell of a lot of
"error: try again later"

i really need to get some sleep
but here i am, over analyzing everything.

i can't even open up to anyone
without it being a joke.
you think all those jokes about wishing i was dead
are jokes?

i understand that you don't know me well enough
to understand what i'm trying to say
and why there is a half second of silence before the laughter
when they try to figure out if i mean it or not.

just because i don't look upset
or look unsettled
or look insane
or look
i don't know,
doesn't mean a thing.

just because i have no intent
doesn't mean my mind is silent.

maybe i'm just really smart,
keeping quiet,
too quiet.

i laugh about my problems
because it's the only way i can pretend they're not serious,
the only way i can control my emotions,
and then when i'm honest
for half a second,
it scares you.

you run away.

i thought we were going to be great friends,
but honestly,
who cares?

If I asked you
if you'd maybe like to try something
some time,
would you say yes?

Because honestly I've been looking
and I've been spending time
and you're really cute,
and I just...

Your answer is probably no,
and I know I should say something
anyway, just in case it's not,
but would you even care?

I don't even know for sure if I'm into you
and it's kind of childish to stay quiet
and I know that,
I kind of wish I knew for sure.

I don't know if you'll ever see this
and even if you do
you won't know who it's for
and that's probably best.

So please ignore this poem
because it's not even really a poem-
it's my rambling
of things I'm too scared to say.

I'm just putting it here
because I don't know how else to get it out
because I can't talk
to people about this in person.

it's been a year

in other words,
i'm cold

in other words,
it's really quiet in this room

in other words,
nobody smiles at me anymore

in other words,
i've forgotten how sweet life can taste

in other words,
i'm lonely

in other words,
i'm scared of commitment and of communication but i haven't tried in such a long time that it might be worth it to try again

in other words,
i've reached out

in other words,
nobody has reached back

in other words,
all i see are
empty smiles,
polite gestures,
and shattered souls

i can see everyone else.
i can tell you which ones
are terrified,
which ones are broken,
and which ones are lost.

there are so few of them
that i can see it.

how are they genuinely okay
as their average sense of being?

am i the only one
that puts up this facade?

am i invisible?

can you see me?

it's been a year
since i've been kissed
or looked at
like i matter.

all i see is the emptiness,
but that may be my cloud diluting
the innocence of the many
and soaking up
the blood of the slaughtered-

can you see me?

i feel like i'm invisible.

i have to **** into conversations
because nobody would include me anyway,

i am a lost cause.

don't make me save you,
i ripped apart the last one.

don't make me feel you,
because i will just be torn away.

don't make me breathe you,
i will suffocate against your weight.

i'm an ice cube up against
a blowtorch,
but i'm not quite sure if
the blowtorch means it.

i'm wet sand
in a mold.
shape me however you like,
smooth me down to fit your ideals
but i will crumble,
and when that wave comes to find me
i will melt in its palms
and get sprinkled back onto
the bottom of the ocean
waiting to be found again.

call me a name
and i will become that name,
the letters will flow out of your lips,
falling like a river,
cool and untouched.

i will let myself drown.

it's been a year.
don't touch me
unless you mean it.

i don't get
why everybody is
yelling
at me today.

i didn't sleep
and so i cried.
okay?
no need to tell me things
that will further my tears.

i have a lot
to do
today.

don't do this
to
me

your hands are made of rain.

they are made of
ice
and
clouds
and
sunshine.

your spine is
the bend of a
meandering river.

i can trace the mountains
of your shoulders.

your hair,
the leaves on the trees.

your soul
lies in the dirt beneath my feet
and in the blueness of the sky.

but your eyes
are coal
supplying the
brightest
fire.

they could burn the whole place down.

they wouldn't even have to try.

you could burn it all down.

you want to burn it all down.

don't burn it down.

there's so much of you left to explore,
so much magic
that even you haven't seen.

don't burn it down.

i can see the magic
in the river stones
of your smile.

don't burn it down.
we have enough lies
and travesties of promises.

be the one beauty left
in this vile world.