"I can see my door, my bed, my window, my chair, and my table.

"I can feel my spine against the wall, my feet against the floor, my jaw tightly shut, and my fingernails buried in my arms.

"I can hear the wind coming in from the open window, my heartbeat rapidly thumping, and that familiar voice in my head, shouting once again.

"I can smell the dampness of the ground outside as the breeze carries it to my room, and the sickly sweet odor from the soap used on my hands.

"I can ******* blood spilling from the bite in my lip; my last harsh reminder that
        I
        am      
        still
        alive.

my mother always told me i was too giving
but she doesn’t realize she made me that way
she gave everything away
even my name

my mom wanted to name me eviana
my dad wanted to name me zara
but my sister wanted a sister named olivia
so my mom gave that to her

she always told me it was okay to give
but to a certain extent
she told me
it’s okay to be a giver
you don’t need to receive every time
but sometimes
you should

i was 15 when i gave a boy almost every part of me
and even when he left
he hardly gave one piece back

i was 6 when i wrapped my brothers birthday gift
he was turning ten
i used two rolls of tape
when he opened it he laughed
you can’t give me a gift that i gave you
and so i replied with
why not?

i was 12 when i came home with a report card
with two C’s on it
i thought i did good
so i gave it to my father
and he didn’t even glance at me
he exhaled
and asked me why i couldn't be like my sister

every time i go out with friends and the check comes
i’m the first to grab it
it’s just a meal or a drink
it’s not a big deal
until one day we’re at dinner
and i'm two dollars short
"can someone spot me on this one?"
and everyone stays silent
that’s when its a big deal

i spent the majority of my life giving
and hardly receiving

but that’s not what my mother taught me
it took me years to realize that my mother taught me to be a giver
but not everyone has my mom to teach them that, too