They're asking me what I want to do,
How do I answer when I'm just now becoming who I am?
They don't seem to think I'd have much to lose, and I agree.
Simply my time to soul search and ability to pick and chose.

See, now is really not the time to ask.
I was in a coat yesterday and a dress today,
my heart's found a new target and my mind is constantly filled with last night's news.
Let's worry about school last.

I overhear their miscellaneous chatter.
No one's attempting to care more, learn more, search more.
Each one mindlessly coming up with conclusions and assumptions that hold no matter.

To this foreigner this does not seem fair,
but fair is such a foreign concept to me.
Of course the West wants to intervene and tell me how to live.
Add pressure to carbon dioxide and you'll end up with just a me; but the version of me you need me to be to fit in.

I’m scared of admitting that if I hadn’t come to see you, your life would have carried on without any more care for me, and my life would still be falling apart.

I’m scared of admitting that if I hadn’t come to see you, you would have been willing to forget us rather than coming to the conclusion that I’m worth it enough for you to try for.

Most of all, I’m scared you’ll never arrive to that conclusion, and that I will continue to cry myself to sleep in the years to come wishing things were different between us.

Wishing I could find someone else, that I was capable of loving anyone other than you, simply for the moment that they call me and I don’t have to go searching for their love.

You used to offer to walk me home knowing you'd have to walk back in the dark, alone.

I used to try and make our goodbye kiss last so it would keep you company.

Now you ask me about my day, I ask about yours, you say you have to go, and I lie and pretend like I do too.

Some may call this a relationship that transitioned or grew, but in truth it simply just feels like you're slowly falling out of love with me.

I feel them staring, glaring --
I'm never sure.
My mind rewinds
to a different shore,
where fish have armored skin
that protects them from
pressures of Earthen spin.

They have legs like fingers,
the fish, the people,
that tramples me, samples me
until I'm withered, feeble.

The stares are like bugs,
striding across with curious rage.
Biting, learning, living
in the hollow of my rib cage.

'Your hand in Mine'* by Explosions in the Sky began playing in my ears as I dipped my sore feet into the cold Chicago lake.

I inhaled all the pain I carried that day and slowly exhaled.
My eyes began to slip closed as a plane reached where water met land and began flying over the skyline.

I could feel your arms wrapping around me as I continued to try and breath. Breathing was never something I had struggled with before.

I was warm despite the goosebumps on my arms from the cold front coming in.

I didn't want to feel your invisible presence anymore, but fear of a permanent loss kept me from jumping in and finally ridding myself from thoughts of you.

When I opened my eyes the sun had begun setting and the plane was long gone.