Behind that laughter (it's a facade)
and my clean
unbroken arms,

I hide my deepest secret
from the world.

No one feels the blade
as it tears across my belly,
besides me.

(I can't help but smile)
I know that no one knows
and that's how it should be,
because to them,
it doesn't exist.

And it shouldn't.




But it does.

why
do you bother with me?

what am I
but another torn
plastic bag stuck
to a tree branch?

what do I
have to offer
this beautiful,
broken world?

I make too
many mistakes.
I fall down
much too often.

so why
why
do you bother with me?

If you knew
all the thoughts that come to me
when I'm alone at 3 am,
troubled and depressed

Would you still sit next to me,
in such close proximity,
making my heart pound so loud
to read over my shoulder?

If you saw the red lines that mark
my pale stomach,
and saw what I see
when I look at myself,

Would you still smile at me
from across the room,
offer to play some game
I don't know the rules to?

If you knew how many times I
skipped meals,
how many times I wanted to disappear
and never come back,

Would you still stand to be
in my presence, untroubled?
Would you love me
the same way?

The answer is no,
because the real me
is scared, ugly and raw.
It would be unbearable to love me again

So I'll keep it hidden
I'll cover up the scars that haunt my memories
and put on a believable smile
before letting you see me

But oh, it still hurts,
so, so much,
because even though you don't know the truth,
I do.

sometimes we feel trapped--
isolated from the world,
like the air inside a bright red balloon
or the unseen ocean inside a conch shell--
like the idea stuck inside my head
before i write it down.

we feel forgotten, like the world
cannot see us anymore--
we are the picture in the frame
behind the one that touches the glass,
the water before it flows from the tap,
the sunrise before it reaches the horizon.

we feel like we're almost there,
but not yet--
we've woken up in the morning,
but we haven't opened our eyes--
we've opened the window,
but the breeze still hasn't come--
we're almost there,
but we're still so far away.

Sometimes I feel stuck
like there are cotton *****
stuffed in my head,
muffling my senses.
They make it hard to concentrate.
I try to feel something,
anything,
but the cotton ***** are blocking the way
to my emotions.
When I try to tell someone,
they scoff at me and tell me
to stop trying to get attention.
I hope one day I'll feel better.
For now,
I'm stuck in the middle of cotton *****,
hoping someday,
one day,
I'll break free.

i'm inside
but i watch the snowflakes fall from the gray sky
through my window.
the floral curtains that hang there
stand out,
as if willing spring to come

soon
it will, its warm breeze blowing the snow away.
for a moment, winter meets spring
but then, it's gone with the wind
waving goodbye.
soon it will be time

but as for now,
i watch the snowflakes, sitting here;
just a day in march.
i don't miss the snow,
but i know that soon
i will

I like my green converse
They aren’t black, like the night without the moon and stars
Or the bottom of the ocean
Or the greasy cast iron pan
They aren’t red, like the blood
That flows in my veins
Or the sunset at seven
Or the maraschino cherries in my fridge
They’re green,
Like the grass beneath my feet
Like the painting in my dining room
Like a ripening banana
Green is my favorite color,
so I like my green converse