Hello!
I have A.D.D
Attention deficit disorder, or so I'm told.

What does that actually mean, you ask?
Well...
I am a genuine, 110% dopamine
addict

Yeah.
No.

I will end jobs, relationships, and conversations
When I get bored-I dont even mean too!
I don't mean to be cruel,
Trust me. I'm not autistic or psychotic,
I just get bored

a lot.

That means
A.) I have a lot of difficulty regulating my emotions.
And trust me, I'm more sorry about drop-kicking my laptop in the middle of a meltdown.
More than you'll ever be.

B.) But, I may not look very A.D.D.
I likely won't suddenly shout
I might get anxious in crowds of people
I may stop mid-sentence to stare at lights
I'll forget just about all the important things.
I'm sorry.

C.) I have a tendency to sometimes regulate your behaviours.
No, it's not OCD
And does my heart beat feel a little fast to you?

D.) I absolutely, positively
Hate
Living like this.
I should understand social cues
I should know that 1+1 equals 2.

I know I should know that.
But my brain disagrees
So trust me,
Sometimes I just want to die.

E.) I seem to hate doing everything,
The dishes
The trash
The laundry
F.) I forgot to take my medications again,
I should have set an alarm but
I forgot.

G.) Please. Just
Go away.
Everything is so loud
Everyone keeps touching me
Everything is happening at once inside my brain.

H.) I will often need your help.
You're normal
You understand why they said one thing but did another and meant something complete different.
Am I having a heart attack???

I.) I am struggling
Struggling to understand why you are so angry
When I swear I told you
I had plans today.
Why aren't you happy I remembered I had plans?

J.) I'd ask jesus christ for help,
But didn't he make me this way on purpose?

K.) I think these medications might be killing me.
Did you hear about the 10 year old
That keeled over from an adderall-heart attack.

L.) Let me spell it out for you,
But one second
I just realise I could hang Christmas lights off of
Our front-door wreath.
Let me live, please. I can't breathe and my lungs are crying from the vyvanse.

M.) Maybe theres more to it
Maybe I'm just a horrible person
That can't seem to find the perfect relationship.
My o my, I think I'll just lose a few pounds. Maybe I just don't need to eat today

N.) No. I don't know what you're talking about
I saw a crow fly by the window
Then I noticed the little display in the garden
Maybe it runs off of batteries?
I think I needed to buy batteries today
No. I wouldn't possibly understand anyways.
I'm too dumb and out of breath.

O.) Oh! Did you know
****** only had one *******?
Did you know about global warming?
Did you know
My hair is falling out from my medicine?

P.) Please!
I got this in the bag.
I just need to look deeper into this question.
Then I'll have my answer
Please, body. Keep up. I just want to be normal.

I tried to have a talk.
I was too hostile.
To listen too.

I tried to text.
I was, I guess.
I was just too much
To hear.

I had too many reasons
To many actions unnoticed
To be worthwhile.

He offers an olive branch
Of physical comfort
And I am too upset
To take it.

I want to torch it.
I want to throw it's ashes

I want to kick
it's too much ashes
Back in his face.

Inhale that,
See thru it
Then come chat about ***
You ****

If he's reserved himself
Blind to my pain
Then so be it.

I did try.
Ash won't hurt
As much as I have
For these weeks.

As a female,
I am seemingly
always

In danger of
Battery,
****** assault.

Yes.

I shouldn't
Pump gas alone at night.
Or glance at strangers.

Yes.

I should
Keep my eyes down.
Stay away from isolated areas.

Yes.

I shouldn't
Walk down an alley
Even if it's a shorter.

Yes.

I should
Keep my pepper spray with me.
Go out of my way for you.

Yes.

Lest I lose my chastity,
What a shame that would be.
How worthless could I be.

Yes.

I  am always
In danger of
Battery,
****** assault.

But aren't we all, my dear?

You see, theres something
They don't know about me.

No.

They won't know
about the blinding rage
Which fills me on the chance that I see a bully.

No.

The rage that my mother
Had to teach me
To keep in check.

No.

They just simply don't
understand
Those years and years of
Classes which might have kept me thin.

No.
They just simply don't
understand

No.

Even though
I am indeed female.
Fragile
Frail
And fertile.

No.

Though they might know
I'm only 5'2.
I'm ripe for the taking
(If they watched my weekly grocery trips well.)

No.

You see,
I stopped growing when I was nine
So trust me,

I have years of rage
Built.
Bubbling.
Waiting.

No.

You could even say,
I've been waiting
For the chance

To claw your eyes from seeing
Those you might think to be weak.

To scar you in your ivory tower.
Lest you ever feel safe in the dark again.

To spear you like you'd
hoped I'd let you pierce me.

You see, sir.
I genuinely don't care who you are.
No means no.
And no is a no.

So, sir.
I just needed you to
Step down.

Yes.
I was waiting.

And look,
Now we're on even ground.

Let me be clear,
By the time we first lost a being made of us,
We were basically married,
Or rather bonded as a pair.

It wasn't exactly my overall preference,
But that didn't matter then.

Then I was simply sad,
No.
I was hollow as a puppet,
Moving about to please my crowed into indifference.

You were never indifferent,
Which I appreciated
Yet somehow,
Despite me quite literally handling what could of been,
It was all about you,
It still is sometimes.

I tend not to want to detract from that selfish process,
But some days I find myself in need of reminding you
Reminding you that you are indeed Male
And it was never your body's fault
Solely mine, my own-despite your dramatics.

Leave it to a Male ego to make my issue all about
HIM.
Like he had to wash himself of every bit of waste,
Like every bit didn't remind him how much his body
Simply
Failed to do as it was built to

As if he was in the bathroom with me.
He wouldn't dream of it.
Weak stomach and all that nonsense,
Yet he got a scotfree ticket to wallowing where I could Not.

Lucky, lucky man.

Just leave the gore to ****** Luanne here,
She won't leave, why?
Because she can't.

Is it bad
That when I wake
I force my sleepy limbs
To be silent

I actually
Rather enjoy it?

Is it bad
That I sort of love
Knowing each sound of life
Comes from my lover

Even though he
Wasn't always mine
And his past is denying my claim?

He called me his bestfriend
My heart stopped for a second
As I pondered the possibility that he may mean it.

But then
He said it again
And again.
He'd run away with me
His best friend
He'd do it for me

I notice these Women.
They accept your nod,
Your word,
On sheer blind faith.

Why?
Because you've got something
Different from me
Between your legs.

I actually find myself jealous
Of the easy relationships
The automatic acceptance and
Happiness.

But then I realise,
Where, in God's name
Would we be
If I just let you

Take and take and take
Without a word.

I'd have to be a church mouse,
Silent and subservient.
And you know it!

You're happy with
My resistance
My thoughts
My own expressions.

We would have never taken
A single Step.
You said it,
And I heartily agreed.

Because I do
Call you out.
Question you.
Correct you.

How else could I
Learn from you?
Or you
Learn from me?

I'm not just a women
You're not just a man
We're learning as we go
And frankly I like relying on you.

We've made it!
He's got that job
And I'm finishing my degree

We've got a dog
That loves us times three.

I have to work part time
And go to school full time.

I see you for an hour 5x a week.
We haven't had a date since last March.
I say we don't need one.
How can you miss what doesn't exist?
Forget the weekends-you're working.

I don't need attention.
I don't need affection.
I am self sufficient.
I am fine alone.

But hey!
We've finally made it,
Right?

This was the dream!
A good job
My education
A family of two.

Right?
We finally made it.
It's about time.

I always thought it stupid
Or perhaps idiotic
To write yourself
Into your own story.

Who needs a dozen mini me's?

But look at me go.

Babe, it's a long way down
To the bottom of the barrel
But if you want to steal my shoes
Try to walk a mile in them.

It's okay.
I know you couldn't.
Too soft.
I'll fix that.

Hold my hand.
I'll take you down.
It's a long way down
But, I know it half as well as you want to
Pretend you do.

Sometimes I forget.
everyone knows somebody with a story to tell
I forget I'm one of those people.
Sometimes.

It's been so long since I last ****** back at a simple touch.
But, it hasn't been long since I stepped in when another awkwardly had plans.
And he didn't accept that answer.

I went in, guns blazing,
My female dog by my side,
Her hackles raised, yet completely untrained.
She hated him.

She alerted it to me in the dark,
A low warning growl, followed by a gently herding backwards.

Away from the scary whispering man in the dark.
She doesn't like men as a rule.
Still, the interactions gravity didn't hit me until later.

Then I shook for a while
I huddled up to my dog for a long while.
She growled and straddled me when my partner came.

He backed away.
We hugged and breathed for a bit.
It took me so long to recognize my own trauma again.

She's familiar with the hurt of abandonment.
Yet, she became intimate with my fear too  
I feel rather sorry for that.

I cried to my mother,
I don't want to be blonde anymore.


He liked blondes.
I couldn't change my dating past,
But I could make myself less interesting.
Right?

But she said
You can't change on the outside. Only underneath.
It was supposed to be better that way.

Teachers wouldn't see.
I wouldn't have to answer
Annoyingly personal questions.

So I did the opposite of light,
I dyed the under layers of my hair,
Black.
Then after a month,
Blue.

Just like me back then.

She was right.
They didn't ask because they couldn't see.
Didn't want to see.

It didn't work.
He wouldn't leave me alone.

So I thought,
I'll fight.
Red for blood, red for intimidation, red for fire trucks.
I'll be Red.

I decided to dye my hair red,
And chop it off to my shoulders.

My mother was right,
But it did not work.
Instead I embraced the Red.
I fought.
It took me 6 years to end it, and yet
I am still fighting the memory 5 years later.

But now,
People only notice when I braid my hair.
They ask if I had my hair done, I say no.

Only when I braid my hair,
Do I show the colours.

They're harmless, right?

They do take many forms.
A careful smile
A small nod
A short compliment.

They're simply here
To boost your confidence.
To improve your mood.
To help you reach that goal.

That's all.
They're harmless.

Together we have to
Link arms, stand up.
No.
Don't loot. Don't burn.
Simply stand up
Stand for the
child that cannot cloth itself
woman than cannot defend herself
man that cannot feed himself
Stand. Rise.
Raise your hands.
Do not fire. Do not shout.

Silent. Still.
Stand together for those that cannot.

I know it's hard
It might feel like
A gigantic weight
Is crushing your lungs

Ribs

Stomach

Heart

And you're upset.
It's unfair
Uncalled for
Unenviable.

why does no one understand??

I just want to die
Most of the time.

But did you know
You're not alone?

I've been here
Waiting here the whole time
Writing you a poem
Just so you'd know

I can carry you
I want to carry your burdens.

I want to put your
Hand on my heart
Just so you know

Each beat carries your
Troubles.
Cries.
Torments.

I am here
And I am screaming out
When I just want to let go.

I am here
And I'm struggling to
Make you take my hand
When I want to stop existing.

I wish you could walk a
Mile in my
Brain.

Just so you'd understand,
I know you feel I
Ignore your hurt

But I don't.
I just want to die sometimes.


But I can't
Because I want you to
Understand

You're not alone.

I have
Very rarely
Heard anything
Kind, sweet, or beautiful.

No.
Just dirt.

I have ***** eyes.
They are the colour of earth.
Hot chocolate, or a doe-if you're stretching.

My eyes are dirt.
Poets struggle with them.
They focus on a smile
Or skin
Or soft fingers.

They try to hide the impurity
Of brown eyes
Despite the fact that my eyes
Are the most common colour of all.

I suppose that isn't unique enough.
Dirt, after all, isn't special
Not even for it's life giving
Breaking
Qualities.

I have ***** eyes.
They're simply not special enough
To be cherished.