who will take me to rome?

because i'm not sure i can make it on my own
but who said

well who knows

an ugly girl
in a beautiful city
is more common than you think
but maybe if i get
the lighting just right
i can fake pretty
for the fake post
for the fake people

maybe rome isn't for me though

i never liked when in rome

take me to ireland
let me soak in the culture
i'll flit away as the fæ
and never return

I reached as far as I could
but I was left painted in shadow.
There was nothing left
for me to gather.
Taken away as quickly
as it was given.
Nothing lasts forever
but this barely existed.

If you love it
let it go
but I can’t bear to part with it.
It’s all the proof I have left.
My humanity.
My normality.

Emptiness lingers
with the scent of it
but it is unbearable.
The void is unfillable.
Scraping at every surface
and coming up empty.
There is nothing
nothing left.
I am alone
with my thoughts
emotions
and empty
cavernous
mind.

no no
sorry
please continue
i can't imagine the unfathomable pain you went through
when your poor fish died today
although every day i get out of bed
hopefully
go to class
hopefully
pay attention
hopefully
make it back to my room unscathed
hopefully

let me start over
depression
anxiety
panic disorder
OCD
all things I deal with every day
my brain doesn't trust me
let alone you
i can't hear you over the sound
of the alarm in my brain
saying there is something out of place
something not right
something that could **** me

clench
breath in
release
breath out
clench
breath in
release
breath out
keep going
they're almost gone

age old techniques
that almost never work
i'll deal though
it's okay
please continue
i just need to leave
very soon

so sorry
i really must go
but i hope you feel better
and maybe we can talk again later

you wake up feeling nauseous
“it’s okay just keep going
the ever-present coffee made
never perfect but always enough
the shakiness sets in
you check your hands every two minutes
just to make sure you aren’t faking it
your hands and feet get cold
you can’t help but wriggle your toes to      regain feeling
your heart feels like it’s retracting
as if it wasn’t enough
you feel like there’s a hole in your chest
it’s hard to breathe and you don’t want to function
you could use a coping mechanism
but then people would notice
no, noticing is bad
better not
you want to cry but the tears don’t exist
finally alone in your room
keep eating to fill the hole
fall asleep watching YouTube videos
wake up to suffer again tomorrow
“you’re fine” you tell yourself
this isn’t nearly as bad as then

She danced around
the edges of
Life.
Whisking around
every hurt and
trouble.
Not a doubt in her
mind,
for she did not feel
pain.

She glanced at the
others,
not knowing of their
struggles and
trials,
for she had none.
She would never
understand
why.

Until she was
pushed.
Into Life.
Into pain.
Into confusion.

She did not
understand
why,
but she knew what she
felt
was true.
She tried to
glide
away,
but she could never
dance
the same way.
Until death do her
part.

We sculpted this nation.
We pulled the burning shreds
from what was left after.
After we discovered what there was.
What there was for us.
Our future.

We sculpted these states,
these laws,
these rights,
this nation.

We sculpt ourselves,
but why?
We sculpted our images,
our egos,
our words,
our hopes,
our dreams.
We sculpted ourselves.

But we have already been sculpted.
We need no additions,
no subtractions,
no edits,
no remodels.

We are we.
Humans
People
Beings.
We are we.
However sculpted we may be,
we are we.

There is never a day
I won’t memorize what to say
a thousand times in my head.

I will pray and pray
that I can just lay
alone in the comfort of my bed.

Because when I get out
that’s the part that’s scary.

Every time I walk past a mirror,
every time I will look.
Not because I’m conceited
but because if I stand out,
then I’m not fitting in.

Every time I walk in a room,
I will always have my head down
in case someone who knows me is there
or someone who doesn’t notices me.

There will never be a day
that my hands aren’t shaky,
that my heart is not racing,
that I will go somewhere and not be afraid.

My brain is a nervous wreck
of strings
connected by golden rings
of lies and deceit.
But mostly things
that were said about me
because they never leave.
They interweave.
They want to be
here in my brain
haunting me.

And no one could ever love me
because I’m unlovable,
untouchable,
underneath,
everyone else.

And one plus one does not equal two
and “I love you” is never true
because I’m tearing myself apart.

And it will always be true
that I’m afraid of you,
and I will always guard my heart.

I memorized it.
All of it.
It took me a couple years.
Times 300.
Plus about 72.
But I did it.

I memorized you.
You were it.
You are it.
There was no one else.
And it took me some time to realize it,
But you are it.

I dug deeper everyday.
I unfolded,
Discovered,
Founded,
All the better parts of you.
There were too many to count.
But of course I did anyways.
You were mine and I was yours.

And I would never expect you to do the same.
But maybe someday
You'll understand me like I understand you.
Because I didn't just discover the good parts,
I found the bad parts,
The ugly parts,
The ones you hate most.

And it made me all the better.
It made you better too, I think.
You suffered.
You didn't want to tell me everything.
And I waited.
I gave it time.
But you were mine.
And I was yours.

We label ourselves
what we think we are
but we live in a world of
broken
mirrors.
I am not who you say I am
but I am not who I say
I am either.

How do we endure this
life
long
question
of who we are?
We don't.
We die wondering
what we were
and never truly know
how beautiful we were because
everything
is more beautiful when it
dies.
It passes and we put on
rose
colored
glasses
and the whole thing was a
happy
accident.

We are cursed with
self-awareness
and hope it is our savior
when it is truly our
devil.

We cannot count on something that
changes as the wind.

Knowledge
is what we
hunger for
but it is also our
downfall,
our poison,
our ******
most
foul.

We can only pray
to whatever higher being there may be
that there is some sort of
purpose
in life.
Something to live for.
Something for our
selfish
minds
and
flesh.

We never knew who built the walls
The walls around us
Inside us
Behind us

But not really
I mean the ones that stop you
From hanging out with friends
From going on a date
From doing anything outside your comfort zone

But you helped me break them down
Not really break
But more like take
We talked
We laughed
We cried
We un-built

They suddenly weren't there
And you were gone too
Where did they go?
Where did you go?
What to do?
Where to go?
I don't know
No one knows

Who can tell me
Really only the builder
But who was the builder?
Why did he build it?
When would I meet him?
Have we already met?

We have to know
But we also don't
I don't know if I want to know

Who could say why I couldn't do something?
Me
Who could say why I wouldn't do something?
Me
Am I the builder?
Surely not

How could I-
How would I-
How dare I-
I
I can't
I can?
I did

"You don't have to be the best"
Oh really?
Because if I'm not then I will be ridiculed
But if I am then I will be accused
Accused of cheating my way to the top

"You don't have to dress up"
You think so?
Because if I don't then I will get in trouble
For not looking good enough
But if I do then I might get *****

"You don't have to work for money"
Yeah?
Because if I do what I love then I will be laughed at
But if I don't I will be a gold digger

Whatever I do I'm always wrong
Because I'm a woman
Women can't be right
They have too many feelings
Their makeup is deceitful
False advertisement
They can't control themselves
They are emotionally unstable

Well guess what?
I can do anything you can do
You can be wrong
You can be too emotional
Your lies are deceit
False advertisement
You can be out of control
You have hormones too

So get over the fact that I'm better than you
Because it's always been that way
I've just been pushed down
Into almost extinction

Always long sleeves
Tight jeans
Never a crop top,
Tank top,
Or halter top in sight.
 
Never questioned
Or noticed.
Even the summer
Showed no interest
In what she wore over
And what she wore under.
 
She was decorated in
Necklaces,
Headbands,
Anklets,
But never bracelets.
 
She was decorated in
Battle wounds,
Angry scars,
Nasty lines,
But never anything pretty appeared
 
There underneath
Where underneath
No one would look.

Why?
She tried
Too much.
She was tired
Too much.
She cried
Too much.
Why?
Too much.
 
High,
Cry,
Try,
Why?
Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
 
Take it.
All of it.
None of it.
Some of it.
One of it.
When will all of it
Leave
Leave
Leave?
 
So who would know?
Where she was
Why she was
What she was
When she was
Gone
Gone
Gone
 
Done.

She was just a flower
Blowing in the wind
Delicate enough to break
Strong enough to hold on to her ground
But trampled by the feet of those who didn't care enough to look at where they walked.

No
She wasn't "just a flower"
She was a diamond
Harder than anything else
Strong enough to cut glass
Beautiful enough to deceive
Knowing that she would not be pushed around.

But she was also fire
Burning with passion
Feeling pleasure as she causes mass destruction
Finding a way to clear the path that was necessary for her live
Redeeming herself from the delicate squashed life she used to live.

And then she was wind
The unseen, unheard force
Pushing others to their fates
Wildly free from the chains of the ground
No longer afraid of being trampled and crushed
Causing others to look up at the world around them
Causing them to realize they were not alone.