bandaids on bullet holes
they clearly don’t work
but you try anyway
all the time
try and try and try again
it’s like you forget everytime  
so you add another, and another
you’ve added so many,
you can no longer see the original wound
so you believe it’s fine for a while
then it started becomes infected
it stings and you wonder why
well, the bullet is still under your skin
you never removed it
its still there, burrowing itself even further into your skin
you keep trying to push it out of your mind
but hiding it made it worse
you think about it all the time
and when someone reminds you of it
it stings
every
single
time

i adore young love
and the innocence of their young hearts
glances across swing sets
smiles across soccer fields
how simple it is
the boy looks at her,
like hes descovering the sun
"i like like you," he blurts out
she pauses, then giggles
is she mocking him??
no, shes not
“i like like you too!”


they hold hands around playgrounds
trying to act cool
shes blushing hard
and he is too
they’re in love
they know it
theyll get married, they swear
and they really do believe it
they doodle eachothers names in notebooks
and draw little hearts all around it
making promises that they really believe they can keep
their world is tiny,
small enough to fit in a small hand
forever feels close enough to touch

maybe theyll grow older,
and drift apart like clouds
but, i mean, in a way,
theyll always be forever
forever in their memories

are you searching for me too?
do you miss me like i will miss you?
are you wondering who i am?
do you wonder whether ill love you the same way you love me?


do you feel the empty space
of where i should be?
i wonder whether youd know
the shape of my heart
before it breaks

and maybe one day we'll meet
but the ache of missing you,
already lives inside of me each day

im sorry im not your perfect daughter
you say you’re proud of me
but i don’t know why would be
i’m smart
but not enough
i’m athletic
but not enough
i’m kind
but not enough
im pretty
but not enough
i wish i could be all you want
but i cant
i cant even be enough for me
so how could i be enough for anyone else?

at night, i lie in the dark
thinking about all the things i could have done better
how i fell short
ill do better tomorrow
i repeat it like a mantra
im just so tired
of trying
of hoping
of yearning
of the day that im finally
your perfect daughter
but right now
im...just...tired.

summers almost finished
the fall air is returning
the nights come quicker
they know what’s going on
and so do i
soon, the busses will appear again
yellow, loud, messy
backpack wielding children,
laughter,
rushing into building,
i don’t belong in
i’ll still be here
it’s quiet
its solidarity
it’s like i’m watching a movie
but only the intro and the credits
summer makes everything easier
everyone is scattered
summer camps
beaches
shopping
i see people
no one notices anyone’s missing
but in the fall
the world goes back to school
and i’m
still
here
maybe i’ll take walks on empty streets
maybe i’ll read and write like right now
maybe i’ll text people and wait
for their hours late responses
maybe i’ll convince myself
that this silence feels good
but i cant gaslight myself that much
it just feels like being left behind

people speak about you.
about your imperfections.
about your insecurities.
about your failures.
you stay quiet,
you try so hard to please everyone
and to always be perfect.
perfect is unrealistic.
you know that,
but you try endlessly to achieve it.
you spread yourself so thin,
no one notices.
you struggle to keep your head above the water.
so close to drowning,
but you keep going.
you continue your journey for perfection,
though you feel unsatisfied, numb
nothing makes you happy.
you feel so depressed and nothing helps.
you feel so burnt out and tired all the time.
there is a cloud of darkness above you.
it’s starting to surround you
and since you spread yourself so thin,
used all your strength and energy to be perfect,
you can’t fight it.
you ask for help.
you cry for help
but your head is under the surface.
it’s too late
you are struggling,
yet no one notices your cries for help.
what they do notice however, 
is how you’ve been different. 
you’re quick to anger.
you have no motivation.
you just can’t do it.
they call you lazy and emotional.
but do they try to help you?
god no.
they’ll call you names and tell you to work harder.
you begin to believe the names they call you.
so you work harder.
once again striving for perfection.
even though you know perfect is unrealistic.
you continue to slowly wreck yourself.
you tell yourself you’re okay,
even though you clearly aren’t.
you keep going until you’re completely wasted away.
because that’s what life is about.
never asking for help.
working until you can’t anymore.
right?