in the beginning of my first
year of high school, i was
the girl with messy hair
who tried to off herself
in summer's past, the one
with tired eyes who skipped
lunch despite empty stomachs
feeling heavier, the freshman
with open wounds grazing
the veins in her arms who
sprinted out of classrooms
due to the sporadic nature
of panic attacks.

i'd like to say that i've
transitioned out of the cocoon
of panic disorders and ptsd and
depression, but somehow,
the butterfly wings haven't grown in yet.