after bowing, clapping is heard
i stop trying to distinguish
the ones out of bitterness and pride

i take it all in
and smile at those who made
all this possible

you're allowed to be a little selfish,
she tells herself
you're allowed to feel,
she repeats
as she pushes the blade,
manages to gulp down a sob
as she stares
stares stares stares
at the opened skin
and the dripping blood
you don't deserve this,
is what she doesn't say
or admit
even to herself

my thumb
pushing down
on a lighter
is more calming
than a
small hand
holding said thumb
watching
anything burn
is more
entertaining
to me
than the
dancing flames

i take everything as a compliment
it makes people question themselves

he was the anchor
she was the sand
and i was the sea.

no, i'm alone.
no, i'm not dancing around because of that
i am however, trying to distract myself,
trying to rid me of sadness,
trying to drown out my parents' fight.

i like touching the bumps on their arms as i sniff and finally allow my face to drop
moments like that are drenched with such genuine pain and sincerity and silent understanding with still nodding of heads
how horridly beautiful, those moments are