My great aunt,
Tia Nelly,
Her gentle presence hasn't changed
Her soft hands that reached for mine to hold and kiss.
Her sweet glow she has when she smiles
Comfort.

She took me to her bedroom window,
Her favourite place.
"I can see all." she says
Indeed she could see who comes
and who goes
Her favourite summer flowers were in bloom
They grew just by the front gate
A perfect view

A quiet moment.
"Growing older is a lonely, sad thing."
She still hasn't let go of my hands
She's so small
"I can't do many things anymore."
I had never heard her speak like this.
I squeeze her hands
I look at her not being able to respond.
Comfort.

"You may not see me again."
She had always said this when we parted
We joked about these things
However
It seemed that
It could be true this once

She doesn't stop looking at me
Her eyes are scanning my face
Comfort
"You are so pretty you know."
She let go of my hand

Do not tell me what words
should
or should not
hurt me

to make art that entertains the people that don't know
to make art that bores the people that do

to create for the ignorant to enjoy
to create for the wise to ignore

to produce something that the shallow lavish
to produce something that the indepth expect

to shape an idea that fools them
to shape an idea that makes you the fool

to be mediocre at my passion
to be mediocre at my life

A message to you, the people
Yes, you.

Smile,

You are being watched

You have an audience

Little ears listen carefully
Little eyes notice much

You don't know this yet but one day
Those ears
Those eyes
will grow
as will their minds, hearts and thoughts

Their voices

Their presence
One in which you overlooked, neglected, discredited
will knock you back
because now you can't ignore them
You are not allowed to ignore them
They will be heard
They will be seen
And you will listen

Only when you taste it do you realise
What you have been missing
All this time.

I want this taste to last a life time
to stay in this moment
a little longer

So much comfort in the sound of a human heartbeat

You are there to help me dig but leave when I want to fill it
You are there for the gigglin fits in the dirt but leave when it’s time to clean up
You are there when my blood stream runs of energy but leave when it’s reached it’s trough

You leave me with this emptiness that I didn’t have before which I hope I don’t resent the time we dug

What do you expect me to do in this dirt?

You don’t realise how lonely you are until there is no one there to be alone with

Do people really hear silence?
Actual silence where there is nothing to be heard?
Not the sky?
Not the cars?

Not an echo?
Not a breath?

Just..space..?

I didn't think that possible.

Wow.

There are people that know true silence.

What I would do to have that for a moment.

It's smaller than I remember

Not that I possessed many things,
though,
it always seemed like everything could fit in here
even the things I scarcely use;
The woolen jumper that scratches my neck,
The mittens, now too small to fit,
The bandanna with a stain or two
Its strange how things get put away to not be seen again
That is what I am now
in this moment.

I must remind myself to air out my cupboard once I get out.
I'm breathing in the stale air my possessions do
It smells of worn wood and detergent
The smell of a home I've always known.

There is a faint rattling
I try and hold my legs together to keep them from shaking
I hate that all I can hear is my short breath
I don't want to move to rub my eyes again.

Silence

A thud.

Nothing

More thuds of weighted boots

Silence again

My legs are cramping now
That recent growth spurt didn't do me good.
My **** knees keeping knocking together
Mama always said I couldn't keep still

Why do I get the feeling
that once I leave my small cupboard
That I won't be the same again?

Will I ever

find

love?

Words are my skeleton and body that make up my physical material
The spaces between my words have tendons and ligaments because they flow when eyes follow them
The lines show my fingerprint as all verses have words, spaces and lengths never to be repeated in the same exact copy
The most important thing about me is something not all people can see as it’s not a physical material
When some read me they may see dullness
When some read me they may see sparks

S is for sitting with a stirring soul still speaking aloud to join the summer singin birds
L is for lying livid as I lie to myself about life, love and lust as the light pours in
E is for elongating time to evaluate as well as extinguishing every chance to explain it  
E is for ending time in this elavated entity because my ideas are eating away at me
P is for please be patient for plans put pressure on the mind to stay peaceful in this plain pitch black sight

I feel there is a command for me somewhere

I’m done trying to understand your hate
I’m done trying to get to grips with your anger
I don’t want to know what it is to have this burning inside your being
I don’t want to understand what compulses you to spread your fire
Keep that to yourself
Keep those away from us
Please
Please
I ask you because I am tired
I ask you because I am wounded
Everyday by the words you use against me and I just can’t take it any longer

Aren’t you supposed to say
I should be myself?

You are mad at me for wearing my oddity on my sleeves
We can’t choose to have a descrite ,
Invisible oddity
We are get what we are given
We can’t choose our identity
What makes us comfortable
We can’t choose what fixes us
It is the way it

I May look different to you
I may wear my oddity with pride
God knows how long it took me to overcome
The violent outburst from you

Maybe you are mad for I do the thing you wish you could do yourself
Something you deny for yourself
Identity liberation
I can’t deny who I am
I can’t hide
And I never will

Divided by
Circumstance
Nature
Appearance
History
Family
Expectation
Identities
Yet they prevail
Finally  
Together
They are friends
They are bound
They are unstoppable!
They are and will always be
Together
Forever
Forever
Forever

No
Wrong
No that’s not what happens
The hope that their friendship will strengthen they accept that they can never have each other in their lives as if this was the inevitable conclusion that no being could control
I look down at my

Is that my inevitable end
That the ones I hold dear
We too
Eventually
Crumble from what we are divided by
Will my friendships be hollowed down to difference as theirs was?

Not quite white
Not quite latino
Not quite anything

Too dark to be white
Too light to be latino
Too mixed to be anything

Not quite that language
Not quite that accent
Not quite anything

Too feminine for this
Too masculine for that
Too mixed to be anything

Not quite this thing
Not quite that thing
Not quite anything

It’s a strange thing to know something about your soul that you cant explain to yourself
Its strange to also know to not explain it to anyone else
Even without knowing the word conventional
I still knew that this was not sit right for people
Besides
How can eplain myself when I don’t understand it in the first place?

The pain of losing a friend

Some nice, good people
that you just can't click with
not anymore

No ones fault
Time, Change, Space maybe

You could want a bond
could desperately cling on to the scraps of it

But it doesn't work out
It doesn't hold

6 years old
invited to a twins birthday party
one side the boys
one side the girls
just as conventional as a toy store

I look closer here
I look closer there
Then it struck me

the simplest words would change my life forever
two words
one thought
a thought that would stay with me
for the rest of my life
as this epiphany
was like no other

'I'm neither.'

Instead of cutting I used lipstick to draw blood
I'd make sure to buy cheap makeup
so it would stain on my skin
just like my scars

Look at what education has become
Teachers don't teach any more
They read and go through narrow
check-lists like robots

And we as students quickly learn that
all school is, is bullet points
We learn that learning is knowing
exactly what's on the curriculum
and nothing more

These aren't being taught this stuff
We are being trained to decode exams
that are blank and souless

There is no passion in those stacks of paper
No feeling

I used to wonder how people make fun of their mental illnesses
I used to wonder how anyone can make light of their problems

"I'm not gonna commit suicide today doc..not today
I'm too busy to die, look I've got a family sized Malteasers
pack to eat and I need to know what happens to Daredevil."

I thought, how could you make fun of what's happening to you?
I thought, how could you make it out to be funny and comical?

But now I'm here
In this ****.
And to joke about it all, is all I've got
That's what I have to do to keep going

I need to make this funny because I can't handle the truth
I literally can't handle how serious my problem is
It numbs the pain and it works

I used to wonder how people make fun of their mental illnesses
I used to wonder how anyone can make light of their problems
But now I get it
I understand now

The creature touched my temple
I felt my brain melt and bubble
I felt it dribble out of my ears and down my neck
burning down my spine
The creature made seven neat slits on the sides my upper chest
it had a habit of reopening wounds and slicing up old scars
With long fingers, the creature cut my ribs and picked them off my sternum
it slid out each spilt bone one at a time
it did it slowly, to make sure I could feel my unsupported flesh slap against my defenceless organs, enveloping them, suffocating them
seconds seemed to break down into a million fractions
the creature would only slide my ribs back and rejoin them once it sensed my heart stutter near to a stop.

As the creature retreated, my liquid brain solidified
what was left in my skull, ached and felt toxic
my legs shook and wobbled a few steps
my chest heaved, reopening my lungs, greedily taking in air as I lent against the cold wall
"Please mind the gap between the train and the platform."

I had to think about things that I didn't want to think about
I had to force the words out of my mouth
I had to think about what had happened
who I was
who I didn't want to be

That girl I buried within me
dug herself up and took her first breath of fresh air
her skin pale and rough
having not seen the sun's glow in a while
I scream at her to crawl back but its done
She is exposed to the world and I can't go back
Every time she breathed, I died a little inside
My forced words encouraged her
She's trying to stand now and I'm suffocating

This is what I was afraid of
I didn't want this part of me alive
I wanted that girl I was to be buried deep
so I wouldn't have to see her
But here I am
I can see her
and the pain of remembering begins