i'd drive you wherever you want to go, take you out to see sunsets on the open road. bring along your favorite blanket, wrap you in it. start the car and keep going until the gas runs out.

glance over at you, with the wind blowing your hair in your face. my heart skips beats and starts to dance. you look so beautiful and calm. my soul has always ached for yours.

we're stuck at the side of the road, and you laugh, and it's like the first time i've ever heard that. you step out with your bare shoulders and feet, pull me out from the driver's side, and onto the hood of the car.

we sit there comfortably, looking up at the stars. you rest your head against my chest; our bodies are close and i can feel you breathing. i remember the first time we ever dreamed together, how eventually we realized what we wanted was each other.

i let you rest against me like that, thinking you're like one of those precious stars, twinkling above us. i saw how you shined and i swore i'd always protect that light; your bright, iridescent soul.

by pretending I am more than I let on,
to like myself more,
to be able to forgive my weaknesses;
by pretending I am normal;
by pretending I am special;
sometimes there is pain, too much of it.
                sometimes I numb the pain.
                sometimes I worsen it,
                sometimes forget about it.
I smile a lot, even when I don’t feel like it;
by forgetting to cry;
by allowing myself to feel good enough;
by thinking I’m worthy;
by telling others I love them,
                when I am not brave enough,
                caring enough,
                too self-absorbed, to love.
by thinking that I will ever change;
by thinking that I will never change;
by giving up on myself;
by still hoping.
because I cannot lie to myself.
because I do not even know who I am.
because I’m trying
                  to become myself
                  and to get away from myself,
                  always at the same time.

i regret being alive
at seven every morning
on the dot, without a doubt,

when i know
i'm going to be
late for class,

with my english teacher,
who thinks i'm good for nothing;
and my mother

will get called to school,
if it happens
one more time,

and i'm not tired.
i simply want
to tear my hair out,

and
scream,
endlessly.

i regret being alive
when i wake
with a splitting headache,

the million alarms
still ringing
in my head,

all of which i turned off
so i could sleep
through them

without doing
my homework.
and i don't want to cry.

i just want to live in hawaii,
beside the beach,
like a hippie.

another day
of not raising my hand in class,
because i'm shy;

another day
of my grades
getting lower.

i feed the fish
we keep alive
to experiment on.

i see a friend
and we're laughing
in the library.

i water the plants
in our garden
for agriculture class.

sure, i'm tired,
but i'm kind of
happy.

the world gets dark for everybody
i’ve been realizing that these past couple of nights,
walking across the football field, getting into the car,
on the way home.

but since you entered my life,
just this wednesday,
and we’ve been talking and laughing
in the bright kitchen,
sharing apples past midnight,
like we’re not tired of the world,

i realized that i was wrong.

for some people, the lights stay on.

it may not look like it, but i am trying very hard.
you think i’m bad because i’m late to class even though
you don’t know why. look at my essays like you know
what grade they’re going to get, when you haven’t even
read them yet. you think because my quiz scores aren’t
perfect that i don’t understand.

but people have different capabilities;
maybe i’m not where i’m supposed to be,
and i need you to stop judging me for that.
all people ever see is how it looks like;
you’re never going to understand if you don’t try.

i haven’t slept right since school started, trying to solve
math problems which don’t seem to make sense. i read
the textbook before i was asked; did every single thing i
was supposed to. it’s crazy. it meant waking up at dawn
after sleeping at two in the morning.

you don’t know how it feels when your best is never
enough, and you have no idea how hard it is to keep
doing that, to keep trying anyway.
you don’t know how often we break.
i have learned to count myself strong, not because i win my
battles, but just because i face them.

we learn to compromise, sacrifice. i don’t have poems
in my head anymore (it’s a mess in there), and i don’t
have the energy to play sports. i don’t see my friends
except in the corridors, all in a rush to get somewhere.

we get no credit, and all the shame. our stories don’t
get told; they’re not the ones where people clap at the
end. we are neglected, felt sorry for, or hated. we are
spectacular at failing to amaze.

we have learned to cheer for ourselves because no one
else will. learned to act like it’s not a problem, that
coffee is your best friend, and you spend nights
studying, just to get lower scores than the rest of them.

tell yourself you’re not tired even when the minute you
start to rest you feel like you’re collapsing. always feel
like crying but you stop yourself; who cares if you’re
exhausted? you still have to finish those papers; you still
have to answer those tests.

what does any of it mean? why am i graded with a C or
a D? are they telling me i will not lead a good life, that i
am doomed already? my story has not started and no, my
fate will not be decided like this. you cannot pass
judgments on my character based on numbers on a paper.

i am more than all these requirements that never end. i
am the work i put into them. so instead of looking down on
me, let us carry ourselves with some dignity. after all, it’s not
a game; it’s not a race. we’re all stuck in the same place. and
the world is tough for everyone, regardless of our “grades.”

I.** That night, I placed a pillow over my head; I dreamt that I was dead. I had cut my wrists over the bathroom sink. I was laying down on the floor. On the bulge of my stomach, written in blood were the words: "I feel better now." Over by the side, in blood too, the wall proclaimed: "This is my version of okay."

II. I dreamt of going to school on Monday and spending my lunchbreak crying in the bathroom. Hiding in the library when I'm full of tears, showing up to class empty. Seventeen is hard. Life is hard. Tell me what you wish for me. (I don't like going to bed sad.)

III. It's so strange that I still feel so alone, maybe worse than before. I am tired of falling apart; I will try holding myself together. Like a scarecrow, mummy, dandelion puff. I will not fall just so I don't have to pick myself up again.

IV. Give me a reason to surrender, or a viable way out of this mess. I don't want to break my heart, or anyone's. I just want to stop hurting. (I knew it wasn't going to be a good year.)

V. I told you "no promises" because I don't need to promise. I have no control when it comes to you. I'm stuck with this overpowering love. I'd drive myself crazy missing you. I'd forget to be happy in the search for you. I promise I won't stop loving you; I can't promise I'll survive it.

It's been a while since I've tried writing the loneliness out of my soul.
but how do I stop feeling so alone?
can I cage up the feeling somewhere away from my bones
so I can breathe easy again without the voice in my head saying
"you don't deserve to be loved" and "you'll never have anyone to hold"
because it's true, and i feel bad when i look at you,
and when i hold you my hands are full of apologies,
selfishly not wanting to be empty, but in the end we let go.
we always let go and i'm always alone and i want to be free
of wanting to be otherwise. i want to stop being so restless on my own at night,
pleading with whoever's on the moon to give me someone too,
hoping for friends and for something more and for love that will forgive me for wanting it too much,
for desiring what i don't deserve, for a soft voice that will say, "it's okay. i want to love you anyway."
but i'll settle for nights that don't feel so cold; i just want to feel okay on my own,
no tears slipping down my cheeks when all i want is to sleep.
i want to stop feeling empty, i wish my bones would know they're home -
i am my own safe place. i want to be alright. at night i clutch a pillow to my chest so tight
it's like i am trying to squeeze my heart numb.