A teacher told me once
That I am the ghost of my school.

He said this because I do what I like-
Walking through halls during class, getting odd schedules, skirting the outside boundaries of events.

But always quiet. I do what I like,
but I do not cause trouble.

But the way he said it,
and his expression after he'd said it,

made me wonder how much he knew
at the time.

I guess it was always pretty obvious, once tiny red lines began to crawl onto my skin
And fade away again.

When I had to be excused from class
With a red face and shaky shoulders

When I wasn't at school for a week with no explanation,
only to return three months after break ended as if nothing had happened at all.

I still get called a ghost, sometimes,
but I heard him tell another teacher that he regretted saying it at all

Because he'd heard what I did over winter break,
and how close I had come to becoming a real ghost.

There are times,
Yes...There are times when I am focused, on task, efficient, and brave.
When I can breathe fire and kick the world's *** and tell you exactly what I think with enough accuracy to trace the trajectory of my words to such a minute degree that I might be able to calculate the distance they could travel before piercing a person's heart. Sometimes I use these projections to my advantage - sometimes I take aim and say just the right thing, at just the right time, and sometimes I do it just well enough to convince someone to fall in love with me.

And then there are times,
Yes...There are times when I am caught, stuck in my mind, surrounded by the dry dust of my thoughts, unsure and unclear. When I am tired and not-all-there. When I am so apathetic that I will let you slip through my fingers like the dreams I know I am letting go of, like the time I spend crying about them that I know I will not get back. Sometimes I won't speak for days - even weeks - on end and I will want you to think that I do not love you anymore because I can't fit you into any of the boxes I have made in my head, and sometimes I ignore you just enough to convince you to push me away.

But there are times,
Yes...There are times that I love, wonder, marvel, and even adore my world without you. When I can look out the car window and see the landscape slipping by like the time I spent crying about you, the time I know I will not get back, and I do not speak for a while. Sometimes these thoughts don't hurt as much as I thought they would, like a vaccine that I worried about right up until they stuck me with the needle and I think 'I could do that again', and sometimes I do just well enough with all the hurt I caused myself with you to look past all of it and see that it is still a beautiful world.

And there are times,
Yes, there are times,
When I feel just brave enough to share it with someone.