Jan 2015
I don’t know who I am, to be honest. I’ve always thought I was a shell housing a…something
I used to think I was invincible. One day, I cut through my skin to see if I would bleed. I was still convinced that I was invincible. Another day, I lit a candle and wove my hands in and out to see if I would burn. I was still convinced that I was invincible. Another day, I approached my sister asking her what happens to us when we die. I don’t remember her answer but I know that was the day I stopped believing in invincibility. I bled harder than I ever will. My skin still remembers the sizzle of the bite.
I remember peering through a mirror. For once, I wasn’t scrutinizing my face, nor was I fascinated by the specks on the ceiling. I saw a girl, about five foot high, dark hair and a face. What was up with that face? Those eyes….see things? Those hands…don’t make things. Those hands crush things. Those hands wipe away droplets of the rain from the face with the eyes that see things. Those hands…aren’t for holding. Those wrists are too thin. Too veiny. Too green. Those arms double as chopping boards. Her shoulders turn in too much but her posture? She could have been a dancer. She should have been a dancer. The girl staring me down. Wasn’t me.
I remember thinking I knew who I was. I thought I was slightly insane. I thought I had been bruised too many times by the dull tips of arrows of words aimed at me. I thought I’d never see the light of day again. I thought I was depressed. I was. I thought my ideas of who I was were *******. They weren’t.
I know of a girl who wants to make people happy. A girl who talks to unicorns and a girl who walks around her house waiting for a person to appear so she can make them happy. This girl is trapped within me. I hear her polite knocks, yet I’ve locked her away and thrown away the key. This girl is determined. She’ll find a way out. I know she will. And when she does, the old me will slip away, like a snake shedding its skin, I’ll know who I am. She will know who I am. And together, we’ll set the world on fire. This time, we’ll watch it go up in flames.
I used to think I was invincible. One day, I cut through my skin to see if I would bleed. I was still convinced that I was invincible. Another day, I lit a candle and wove my hands in and out to see if I would burn. I was still convinced that I was invincible. Another day, I approached my sister asking her what happens to us when we die. I don’t remember her answer but I know that was the day I stopped believing in invincibility. I bled harder than I ever will. My skin still remembers the sizzle of the bite.
I remember peering through a mirror. For once, I wasn’t scrutinizing my face, nor was I fascinated by the specks on the ceiling. I saw a girl, about five foot high, dark hair and a face. What was up with that face? Those eyes….see things? Those hands…don’t make things. Those hands crush things. Those hands wipe away droplets of the rain from the face with the eyes that see things. Those hands…aren’t for holding. Those wrists are too thin. Too veiny. Too green. Those arms double as chopping boards. Her shoulders turn in too much but her posture? She could have been a dancer. She should have been a dancer. The girl staring me down. Wasn’t me.
I remember thinking I knew who I was. I thought I was slightly insane. I thought I had been bruised too many times by the dull tips of arrows of words aimed at me. I thought I’d never see the light of day again. I thought I was depressed. I was. I thought my ideas of who I was were *******. They weren’t.
I know of a girl who wants to make people happy. A girl who talks to unicorns and a girl who walks around her house waiting for a person to appear so she can make them happy. This girl is trapped within me. I hear her polite knocks, yet I’ve locked her away and thrown away the key. This girl is determined. She’ll find a way out. I know she will. And when she does, the old me will slip away, like a snake shedding its skin, I’ll know who I am. She will know who I am. And together, we’ll set the world on fire. This time, we’ll watch it go up in flames.
