i am more than the moments of silence
that pass after i try to crack a joke with a forced smile

i am more than the mornings i wake up, too numb to escape
the thick sheets of my bed
to go to class

i am more than the colored capsules
i am told to pop into my mouth
every morning and night
in order to "feel better"

i am more than the image
they have fabricated of me:
a "self-righteous girl" too naive
to understand how others feel

i am more than rules
i have been told to follow
my whole life, centuries-old
etchings on stone tablets

i am more than the faded
scars on my limbs, the sunkenness
under my tired eyes, the bridge
i felt drawn to that fateful night

i am more than cookie-cutter
conversations, than a young woman
in a pretty little dress home from
school for the holidays

i am more than my fears,
my doubts, the demons that
reside within me and the
hollow shell i felt i have become

i am more than a number
on a computer screen,
a statistic among millions,
another face in the crowd

i am my name scribbled onto
a blank page in black sharpie,
with the tail of each letter curved
into the next, an informal cursive

i am the soft gurgling of a stream
as it splashes gently
over stones, an aster reaching
towards the sun on a spring day

i am the cascade of a song
through headphones late at night
and the mellow aroma of crushed
spices rising from a mug of tea

i am the way your fingertips
trace little circles on your desk
during your first class
on a monday morning

i am a lone star at night,
twinkling in no particular
pattern, but it's really just
an illusion of the atmosphere

i am more than a structure
of cells that heaves
with blood and oxygen,
feigning warmth and kindness

i am a fleeting thought
that enters your mind
before vanishing, that one
speck of dust you can't quite grasp

i am an enigma,
but i am still me