It isn't the marks on my arm
it isn't the thoughts in my head or the way I act or the tears dried on my pillow.
those don't matter.

I need to create a future and so none of this matters.
This is my in between time and
******* is it hard
but it only shaped me a little
it only molded me with light touches, it only sketched
its mark across my wrist
it doesn't define me.

so this isn't me
I am normal I am not messed up I am ordinary
iamnotmessedupiamnotmessedupiamORDINARY
I
am
ordinary.