When asked to describe myself, I only give internal details.
" Oh, I'm nice, friendly, thoughtful.."
in fear of revealing how I truly feel
So when the question is proposed, my hands get sweaty.
My thoughts rush all over, words hanging on my tongue, but never long enough to formulate a statement.
To say I'm pretty is a lie in my eyes, for my opinion on myself differs from day to day.
I try to sound humble and somewhat confident when I say, "I'm pretty, I guess. I have nice hair."
Immediately, failed the confidence test, but they can't know the truth.
Not how I cried myself to sleep way too many times in a week.
Not how I held myself and tried to stop my body's shaking as the tears rolled my face.
Not how I looked in the mirror and was terrified of my own reflection.
They just can't.
I must keep up the image. The mask can't fall or slip now.
I hope no one can see the string. -nijah v

Seeing you
makes me
miss you
more.

i have anxiety
undiagnosed.

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.

all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.

i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull

i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.

“How do you feel?”

She sits across from me with an unintentional smug look
plastered across the canvas of her face.

“Fine.” I say bluntly.
“Fine” meaning ‘I can’t stop picturing his face
and how his hands feel on my waist
and how it’s so much better when he’s with me and not her’.
“Fine” meaning ‘why did he have to ruin it?
Why didn’t he just pretend he loved me back?’
“Fine” meaning ‘I could catch the bus to his home right now;
stand on the doorstep and demand
he glue and stitch back together my broken heart.’
“Fine” meaning ‘I don’t want to talk to you about it.”
“Fine” meaning ‘I’m going to go home now,
lie on the roof of my house and try to get the sound
of his muffled-through-his-chest heartbeat
and the sound of my own crying
out of my head’.

blue
what does it mean to you?
a color
an emotion
maybe it even reminds you of a song
but do you ever stop and think
wonder just a little
how blue is seen by other people?
or, not just blue,
any color at all?