what gives you the right to tell me who i am?
who gave you the right to try and hold my hand?
do you want to be dehumanized;
     dissected and put on display?
when i tell you the truth, you can't even muster the courage to say
that i am a human being with respect, but none from you.
my heart beats with the intelligence that yours lacks
i can't believe you've convinced so many people of your love for respect and justice and loyalty and
darling, if no one notices your hatred does that mean it's still there?
my hair blows in the wind that you've created
in the world where i don't matter.
and in the cardboard box that is life
you are the box and i am the tape because
most times i'm not appreciated until i am gone.
if a tree falls in the woods, does that mean it makes a sound?
dear god, i can't believe the mess that i've found.
you put us in the corner and said "don't you dare make a sound."
my heart is racing, deep breaths while it pounds.
you hurt until you're gone
but oops, no one cares.
it's hard to win the fight when they want you to be lighter than air.

my mind is a black hole of unwanted necessities.
merely a trash pile of heartbroken memories.
a garbage can of 'what-ifs'.
too many corners,
not enough time.
too many songs,
not enough rhyme.
i want to run
i want to climb
i want to expand the endless borders
   of my only mind.
why
can't
it
happen.
why
can't
it
be?
why am i made up of just disheartened memories?
my landscape is soft
my scars are sad
why do i only want all the things that i once had?
beaten-down borders represent
   where i once stood.
i always swore that i would never be anything but good.
i can't say that what you've done to me makes me glad
but dear mind,
   at least now i appreciate what i once had.

it was stupid, really.
nothing more than a glitch in the usual system
     just a little bump.
but then you left and
i
couldn't
breathe.
heart pumping
breath racing
fingers shaking.
unintentional
self-inflicted
suffocation.
i can still feel my ribs against my arms when i
     hugged my stomach
looking somewhere
     a  n  y  w  h  e  r  e
for
air.
let me tell you something
breathing is so incredibly simple
     until it's not.

i wish you would stop caring
then
i could
die
in
         *peace.

i hate mirrors.
usually because i hate what glares back at me.
there's an awful moment of realization that
i
can't
change.

i hate mirrors recently
because ten minutes ago i didn't recognize the eyes staring back at me
looking for answers.
the meaning of life
how to not be sad
what to do when you want to die.
i don't know how to change that either.

i don't know if i believe in religion.
i know i believe in god
and i believe in good.

i believe in papers scattered across a writer's desk.
i believe in band-aids covering blisters on a dancer's toes.
i believe in the sweat on an athlete's face.
i believe in the love of a best friend.

i believe in the heartache that comes with breathing.
i believe in the pain that comes with living.
i believe in the scars that come with hurting.
i believe in the color red that comes with not believing.

my air conditioner is broken.
the attic is hot and humid.
the air swirls around slowly and lazily as if it isn't causing any discomfort.
as if isn't causing me to take off my shirt and stare at my scars.
pink, purple, white
it's a collage of colors no one would pay to see.
a heartbreaking representation of fragmented human souls left to hurt in peace.

my mind is broken.
my body is numb and miserable.
my thoughts bounce off the sides of my skull as if they weren't pouring salt into my wounds.
as if they weren't pointing at me and whispering to their friend about how grotesque i am.
fat, ugly, worthless
it's a novel of humanity no one would care to read.
a dying representation of why we weren't smiling that day at lunch.