(1) I wonder if I’ll die at 32
16 seems so much like a midlife crisis
I don’t wonder too much about
other things
If I’ll ever have a husband
If I’ll ever have kids
the politics of the pronouns
for my future spouse became
too complicated, at least for me

(2)    I’m tired even though I slept last night
I’ve been sleeping a lot lately
I don’t have much else to do
As morbid as it sounds it just feels like I’m stuck
waiting until it’s my turn to die
    
(3) I should be taking notes in class
         talking to my friends
  I should make eye-contact when I talk
and stop scratching my hands
I have to admit,
I have a certain affinity for scars
                           permanent regret
I shouldn’t have selective hearing
                                I haven’t listened to an entire conversation in
too long
        scanning instead for terms of my interest
         slurs
         are a particularly ear-pricking noise
lesbian, gay, transgender,
                   suicide

(4) I never thought my name
             would be such a hard question
    one that made me pause
“Do they know?”
they must
they don’t
neither do I
I want to sputter out to my brother
exactly what I am
but I don’t know what that is
I want to stop breaking down in my room over forms
M
or
F
morf I read
morph my mind corrects me, wishing I could do what I read

(5) My finger taps a desk and I watch the line in my hand
up
down
up
down
and I try to convince myself that I am real
                ten minutes
that’s the time left in this class period
              two fives
I say to myself, trying to shorten the time
           I used to be better at this

(6) I look at the rings on my fingers
             Do they belong?
would I have to take them off if everyone knew?

(7) My grandparents were twenty years apart
            I don’t shy away from age gaps
I try to justify it in my head
              that everyone is made for each other
that out there someone else longs for me, too
But my mind corrects me
on all the inconsistency in the world
                       there could very well be no one for me

(8) I don’t know what I feel
                   but part of it is alone
and another part is angry
                                 and angsty
                                 and sad
but they’re not puzzle pieces that fit together
          
(9)            I try to tell myself
       “I am myself”
but some days I don’t think even that is true
               I used to be better at this

(10) the veins in my arms carry blood through my body
                  so I remind myself
“today you are alive”
                              and I bide my time
                              and I wait