it doesn’t feel real
it feels like the moments where i sat in the snow
outside my old house
before going back inside
only to find my father breaking things
and my mother sitting by herself
in another room pretending she was right
and my brother angry at both of them
for things they already did
and things they were bound to do later.
it feels *****
like i need a shower
but no shampoo can wash the
anxiety from the underside of my scalp
and no body wash will scrub the
tingling tenderness that i feel on my skin.
the party in the other room
makes me feel like life never
invited me to join in
so i wait patiently for someone to text
and ask where i’ve been all night
even though i’m never anywhere
but inside my own head.

i wish life invited me to join in.
i still wouldn’t have gone
but i would have appreciated it
nonetheless.