Stop looking at me
stop stop stop stop.
Their narrow eyes make me want to throw up
and I feel
so sick
welling in me like some ******* typhoon
and I don't know what do with this
energy gathering force, black and huge.
I don't know where to direct this
animal that grew in the cage
of the boxes
that they've tried
to cram the lid on top of
with me there silent.

I am more than ***, weight, gender, hair
and not that any of you care,
but I can feel and I'm alive
and my heart is banging against my chest
but nobody's home,
nobody's home.
And you might as well take a knife
and find a place for it between the sturdiness of my ribs.
Maybe you can cut out
some of my less desirable traits.
Maybe you can trim me into shape.

They look at me like a murderer.
Maybe you're afraid I'll stain your cornflower hair red
with my ***** touch.
And the more you
look look look
at me
the more I think
I'd like to very much.

So look at me
like I'm ****** and ******
and sin.
Alright,
okay,
you win.
I'll be the murderer,
the outsider, the stranger you'll never be.
And I'll ******,
god, I'll do it.
I'll ****** me.

I spent the spare change of my life telling myself,
'I don't need anyone.'
And I think that I was right.
I told myself,
'Don't depend on anyone.'
Because people are as vaporous as clouds,
and I know that I was right.

And now I think,
'I don't need anyone,
but
wouldn't it be nice
to want someone.'

i don't understand
my impulses.
i don't understand the sun
or the moon,
or the veined leaves splayed
orange, green, and gold.
i don't understand
why i feel so
old
or why i make myself
so sad.
i don't understand
why i was born,
how things got so bad.
and mostly
i don't understand
what a ******* difference it makes.

the internet told me it was either
mono
or
depression
so i shrugged and thought
it must be mono.
the sleeping too much,
or not at all,
eating one small meal a day
and barely keeping it down.
i'm hungry
and everything smells
like sickness.

the cigarettes are going one by one,
and my room is stuffy
and feverish.
i listen to the music
pulsate from next-door,
thrumming near my ear and mingling
with voices and laughs and little jokes
i'll never know.

i put my ear to the wall to listen,
but i know i'll
just be there
straining to hear.

it's go to be mono.
must be,
has to be,
because i'd feel betrayed
by my own brain chemistry

i'm not that person;
i'm not that person.

i'm
feeling so much
like an object
i'm becoming
inanimate.

the flow of information
so vast
it might swallow us up
a great flood of
pictures, pictures, pictures
and
people, people, people.
i don't know
how it's possible
for a grain of sand
to be alone on a beach
or a water molecule in a sea.
but sometimes it seems
like
the middle of
the torrent
is the
quietest place to be.

I wish I could warn my past,

                      I wish I could send a smoke signal
                                         or a telegram.
                      or a letter.
                                                         ­      Just to say,
                                                            ­  BE CAREFUL
you may become,

                                 so accidentally,

                                                  ­                                                                 ­  an ugly person
                                                                ­                                                     one day.
                                                            ­                                                                 ­            Love,
                                                           ­                                                                 ­             K