Five:
Kindergarten
A time we are asked to draw our future lives
Our future families
But while kids are drawing houses with their future spouses
I draw myself alone in a house
All Alone
And I didn’t know why


Six:
My teacher tells the class to describe their future families
To describe the children, spouse, and/or pets we want to have
But I say I don’t want a husband or children of my own
I just want a pet that understands me
I get stares
But I don’t think I’m different
This is when the bullying got worse
When the mold of my face was plastered into the playground mulch
When I grew distant from others.


Seven:
Second Grade
A time where the wedding bells are ringing
Where kids are getting “married” left and right
But when a boys asks me to marry him
I say no
It’s not that I didn’t like him
I just didn’t know why


Eight:
Third Grade
A time where we make friends
A time to explore who we are
Kids were “asking each other out” and holding hands at recess
But I didn’t want that
When a boy came up to me and tried holding my hand
I let it go
Becoming increasingly uncomfortable
And I just didn’t know why


Nine:
Fourth Grade
One of my worst times
Getting bullied so much that the dial couldn’t be turned up any higher
The frequency already alarmingly loud to me
Yet no one did anything
I stood alone
But I was comfortable and I didn’t know why


Ten:
Fifth Grade
The bullying continued
Small rumors got around that I liked girls
They didn’t go very far
Seeing that I pushed away everyone that ever tried to approach me
I wasn’t lonely
I was content no one wanted to hold my hand
Or ask me out
And I didn’t know why


Eleven:
Sixth Grade
We are given “The Talk” this year
We must watch the movie without laughing or fidgeting
Or we have to watch it again
I watch the movie and become increasingly uncomfortable
Feeling the ***** rise
I no longer feel okay
And I wonder
This is what people do
So why don’t I want to


Twelve:
Seventh Grade
I’m starting to understand
Believe in myself
That I’m different
I realize now that I don’t really like boys
Maybe I’m lesbian?
Does it matter?
Whatever it is,
I keep my mouth shut
Afraid of any torture that may follow
Maybe the rumors in fifth grade were true


Thirteen:
Eighth Grade
Relationships rise in intensity
Boys and girls kissing
I still believe I like girls
But not normally?
I seem to have closer bonds with them
But ****** ideas and thoughts never enter my mind
This broken down *****
Questioning its every move


Fourteen:
Ninth Grade
Freshman Year
Where Hell begins
Where I am finally understanding myself, my preferences
Digging deeper into my heart
Clinging to this broken up, already defeated *****
That just beats in my empty chest to make me go through more pain
I do my research.
Lesbian?
No, I don’t like ****** actions that much
Asexual?
The description seems to fit me well
Finally being the mold I needed
The mold to help put my pieces back together.
But who can I tell?
No one
Because no one will understand.


Fifteen:
Tenth Grade
Sophmore year where bullying is an everyday struggle
I do more research
Demiromanticism calls my name
Where I feel romantic feelings for someone I grow close bonds to
And if I only grow bonds with girls
Then…
How will my parents understand?
My friends?
The beings that I cling onto everyday just to keep breathing.
They’ll never understand what kind of a freak I am


Sixteen:
Eleventh Grade
Junior year
I come out to Callan, one of my best friends
And things didn’t go as expected
They accepted me
With open arms that I thought for sure would be closed
It was the first time I felt free
I came out to more of my friends
And then came my family
I expected them to not understand
But they were willing to listen
Enough to accept me
Well I mean … “accept” me
I could tell they didn’t fully believe me
Both plaguing me as a lesbian.
Someone I’m not
But I dropped it
And let them have their vision of me
This personality whom I’m not and never was.
I now fully understand who I am, but they
They seem to think they know me better than I do

A dark soul
Broken inside
Trying to find its way

Talking long distance to you online
I feel I know you even though we've never met
I know your feelings, your quirks
Your wants, your needs
I love you for who I've come to see plastered on my computer screen.

A thin pane of glass
Sits between you and me
Yet I somehow know
That it is meant to be

A little boy
Neat white shirt ironed to perfection
A monster truck plastered on the front
Denim jeans, fitting his skinny waist just right

Innovative
Imaginative
He loves creating new things
Making plain old cardboard into the next best thing

He gets his crayons
Sharpies and all
And runs to his room
All excited on his new project, his new creation

One piece of cardboard after the other
Rectangles flying everywhere
Coloring what looks like door handles onto cardboard?
The vision isn’t clear, yet it will come together soon.

He works quickly
With a due date set in mind
Full of ambition
The vision isn’t clear, yet it will come together soon.

He finishes his new achievement
Smiling happily at his new jumble of handiwork
Glued together precisely
The vision isn’t clear, yet it will come together soon.

He attaches the different shapes to himself
Straps glued to the cardboard
It seems he’s wearing armor
With doorknobs and wood grain painted on it with pure artistry

He hears someone come in the front door
His smile turns to panic
He quickly cleans up the supplies
Throwing things around the room anywhere they fit

He runs to the corner of his room
He quickly pulls the “armor” close to him
As he sits in the fetal position
His armor becomes a small dresser that looks as if it was made for clothes

The father bursts into the room
With rage spelled out on his forehead
The boy hides brilliantly afraid of the wrath to come
The father looks around the room carefully

Come out Come out
Wherever you are
The next time I see you
I’ll give you more bruises than last week altogether

He closes the door with a loud slam
The boy unfolds his creation, a simple dresser
Who knew that a young boy’s imagination
Would protect him from all of the horror and pain usually unleashed on him

Do I dare?

Do I dare shatter how you portray me?
Crack the mirror
Breaking how you know me to pieces,
Breaking how you think you know me to pieces.

Do I dare drown you in my pain?
The pain of past losses
The pain of past friends
Successfully attempting their suicidal deaths

Do I dare tell you the truth?
The truth about who I am
The fact that I pretend
Put on a counterfeit smile and pretend everything’s okay.

Do I dare say who I truly am?
That I’m asexual
With continuous social anxiety
Never really sure what to do around people.

Do I dare show my social anxiety?
Pretend everything’s okay when I’m scared inside
Show you how fragile I am
Show you how shattered I already am.

Do I dare break this facadé I created?
Fracturing everything I’ve worked so hard to create
Just to show my true emotions, how I really feel
And to be laughed at by my peers

Do I dare take a chance?
To put myself out there
To care about someone
Just to have them push me aside into my growing darkness

Do I dare care for anyone?
Because the last time this happened I couldn’t save them
They died on my watch
And I had to stand by, left here with the aftermath wondering what I could’ve done

Do I dare share my feelings, emotions?
Attach myself to another
When I feel that everyone I care about
Just leaves me in the end, one way or another

Do I dare care about life anymore?
It’s already wasted on me, a corpse of a being
Already half eaten, wasting away
To the point where I feel that keeping it short is best

Do I dare tell my friends?
How I truly feel
How I hate myself for my past
Not being able to help anyone

Do I dare be happy?
“Frolick in the flowers” is what they’ve told me
“Just release your sadness”
Yet you don’t know me nor have you ever spoken to me before now

Do I dare yell back at you?
Tell you how you’re wrong
How I’ll never change
How I am who I am.

Do I dare love who I am?
Yes.
With all my insecurities and faults
I will always make mistakes
But it’s how I overcome them.

Do I dare stand up for myself? For others?
I will always try my best
Even though some people need space or push me down
I feel that I need to find courage in my broken, bandaged heart

Do I dare speak my mind? Show my true colors?
I’m not sure, nor will I ever be sure
Yet I know that my true friends,
The ones that helped bandage my heart
The ones that helped repair my shattered self
Will always let me be who I am

Thanks to all who have let me be me
But the question still stands
Do I Dare?

PLEASE READ THIS!!!! This poem has triggers mainly of bullying and suicide. If you are triggered by either of these things, please don't read! I don't want anyone to hurt themselves!! :)**



My reflection
Staring back at this corpse
Nothing left but an empty soul
Picked at by vultures
Preyed upon
Until nothing was left but skin and bones

Why am I your target?
What have I done?

You have no answer
Yet you laugh in my face with your friends
Degrading me to nothing but dust
Suicidal thoughts enter and exit the empty space my brain used to occupy

But I don’t think anymore
I don’t speak anymore
I don’t care anymore

I walk and walk saying nothing
My mouth sewn shut with invisible string
Like a puppet
I act out my everyday life for you
Pretending everything’s okay
With an inviting smile and eyes filled with some kind of hope
Yet when I go home
I sit and stare at my options

Rope
Blades
Meds
Guns

All in my possession
Wishing I had the power in myself to end it

But there is a voice
Soft but clear
That strays me away
Tells me everything will be fine.

But I never listen to the soothing sound
All I hear is static; the static of all my bullies telling me

You’re ugly
You’re fat
You’re useless
You smell
Too nerdy
Too tall
You’ll never make it
You’re nothing
Why don’t you just **** yourself so we don’t have to see your ugly face around here again?

I’m alone in my house
Find the gun
Sit in my room; the only place where I’ve ever expressed myself
Put the barrel to my head; look around for the last time at memories that will never be finished
Pull the trigger