it was a saturday, slow,
an early dark
dripping in my boots
i was a fool
to believe this
might simply end
with a whimper
when endings, for me,
are typically punctuated  
with a bang
a forest fire
a collapsed galaxy

i remember the
ripples of time
spreading out from
my fingertips
and i thought i might die
and it was terrifying
and then it was

silence
peace
a pool of
luxurious
nothingness

and then i was awake
left to wonder how survival
could feel like
such a punishment

i spent much of my
early twenties
convinced
my existence could be
pathologized,
explained neatly
by an icd-10 code,
convinced i was
maybe bipolar
maybe borderline
maybe something
anything
because a diagnosis meant
answers
a plan
relief...

the years since
softened my mind,
changed me,
healed me,
revealed the corrosive
nature of pain,
how i held onto it
for years and years
because it was
all i had left.

i put it down,
i said my goodbyes.
i don't google
diagnoses
anymore.

you wish you were invisible sometimes
to hide the scars and bruises on your neck,
'cause once you have been seen you can't go back
to being just a gap between the lines
of someone else's story,
of someone else's life.
now your disguise is too thin to protect,
now you've been noticed, captured by a net that keeps you still.
you wonder when they're going for the ****,
you're counting moments,
but they keep on slipping through the wires,
you wish you were invisible sometimes.

I can sense your hush,
Walking beside me,
What if our hands brush?
Why step away,
What's with the rush?

Sleepless nights,I wear them out.
But if i ran up to you,
Just wait and you'll see
How much i can show off.
Like the way moon charms the stars
I shine, flushed
Beneath your Light.
My tears floating as i become
Captive to your touch.

Poor young girl
I dared to cry
Little did I know
my dad would
“Try to make me feel better”

He would pull his shirt over his face
So I wouldn’t see his expressions
The things that make him human
But I would see his stomach
And I would see him chasing me around the house

“No!”
I would shout
I didn’t want the hug
I didn’t want the hug
I didn’t want the hug
He was scary

But I was little
And not so fast
So he would grab me

I was trapped
In my mind
In the house
And in his arms clutched against his bare, hairy chest

And maybe I never truly left there
Trying hard to believe that he was truly trying to help me
Trying to be okay
Trying to stop what he was doing from hurting me constantly
Trying
Trying
Trying

I have since recovered slightly
With meds, poetry, and therapy
but I still feel the squeeze of his hands sometimes
I still his chest hair against my neck
I still feel the fear of a switch
The fear that someone will get angry

I’m still a little trapped
And a little afraid to cry

Drink some water
Eat something
Write a poem
Take a walk
Just sit there and exist for a moment

It’s okay
Nothing really matters anyway

I am your
shadow
I will always
misbehave.