I've got a special power:
I can look at my body from the outside
and my hands are never really mine.

I am
          untouchable.

                  I'm floating.

My name
doesn't sound like
a real word
anymore

       (I am not
       a real person
       anymore)

My brain
is splatted on the walls
like a Jackson *******
smelling like rotten flesh –
is it too late
to get back inside?

Words
can't hurt me
(especially the ones
starting with a C)
though I have a hypothesis –
I become what other people
already consider me to be
and I still can't tell apart
being crazy and just having a bad night

I'm not cold, I'm just emotionally inept
– insert ghosts from my past creeping out
from under my bed –
and for God's sake
stop calling me a wreck
–insert overused metaphor
about the Titanic
and the inevitability of death–
self-centered does make sense
– insert weak apology
or just count the I's and me's and my's –
but if you call me crazy
it all comes down
to the oldest question of all time –
*am I mad
or am I just wasting this life?

death was never the
answer, yet is the only
possible solution.

i. listen to lo-fi music. feel nostalgic about places you've never been to.

ii. take pictures of strangers, never of your friends.

iii. read the same book over and over for three months straight. find non-existant hidden meanings.

iv. keep five notebooks full of quotes, none full of how you're feeling.

v. write letters to imaginary people. sign them as holden caulfield, then switch to ******, then jay gatsby.

vi. look at yourself in the mirror until your eyes get out of focus. convince yourself that you're not really there.

vii. complain about being stuck in one place.
do nothing about it
stay there
don't move

you made it.

Out of all the words
I've been called in my life
(and I've been called quite a lot of different things)
the one that stuck with me the most has to be
impossible.

I can work with cynical
I can understand cold
but I never managed to wrap my head around impossible

I'd spend hours virtually running my hands through it
dwelling on every letter
shaping my body to look like it

and I just wanted to stop existing
because how can something impossible be real
there's no place nor time for impossible

It took me a while to realize that impossible
meant that they were giving up on me
without even making an effort

because behind impossible
there's the implicit saying
“you're hard to love and I really don't want to try”

but that's okay
just like two negatives make a positive
I just had to find someone just as impossible.

Sticks and stones
may break my bones
but dimples and freckles
will never fail
to make my heart melt.

I don't really think
about killing myself
that much anymore.