I don’t owe
Anyone
Anything

I don’t owe
Anyone
Anything

the little girl was scared
at first
but now she was terrified
and about to have
a panic attack

He kept her tight
in his arms and covered her
ears and
told her to calm down
and that everything will
be all right

It was 02:24 AM and the
knocks in
the door and all around
the walls and windows
still carried on

And there were howls
coming from
outside and
curses and a constant sound
of nails scratching
on wood

“Daddy, I’m scared! I’m…”

“I know, dear, I know. But
you have to
calm down. Remember to focus
on your breathing like I told you.
Deep, deep breaths, okay? Deep. In
and out. I promise you,
tomorrow everything’s gonna
be fine. I swear.”

“Is it zombies?” asked the
little girl.

“No, dear. It’s something else.”

“What’s it called?”

“An ex-girlfriend, dear.”

In an aesthetic coffee shop,
Scribbling away with glee.
Drinking to my imagination,
Is it only me?

In this aesthetic coffee shop,
Where lovers often meet.
I hear fragments
of what their life has been.

Talking over coffee,
They think they are strangers to me.
I observe,I know,
I share their happiness, a witness to their vows.

Sadness and pain,
Sometimes the outcome may be.
But they still come to this coffee shop,
Unknowingly drinking with me.

I am not the only one,
Voila,it's not just me!
There are other artists in this coffee shop,
Observing and scribbling like me.

Here’s a little story
About a daughter
And her family

See the daughter has depression and anxiety
But the mother is oblivious
The mother is unaware of the depression
She genuinely believes that cutting and the fact that her daughter goes to therapy are linked to anxiety

And yet
Even though the mother seems to think that it’s only anxiety
Meaning that the anxiety is that extreme
She still wakes the daughter up
By screaming
She still questions the daughter
In front of a crowd
She still yells at the daughter, overwhelms her
And sends her into a panic attack

And yet all the people on the outside see is a mother worried about her daughter
And trying to help her
By taking her to therapy
But they don’t see the locked doors
They don’t see the screaming
The name calling
The belittling
They don’t see
That the mother
Is the reason that the daughter
Has to fight
So **** hard
To want to live

They don’t see that the daughter is only happy with her friends
They don’t see the scars on her arms, legs, and hips
They don’t see that the daughters only escape is when she’s not at home
They don’t see that the very therapist the mother takes her to
Is proud of the daughter
For staying alive
In such
Rough
Circumstances
Blood doesn’t mean family

But enough about the mother lets move on to the father.
The father that refused to pay child support for the first 3 years after the divorce
The father that had a second child, the daughter’s half brother, with another woman
The father that is engaged to a different woman now
The father that, when evacuated from his city due to a fire, took his fiancé to Jamaica instead of seeing his kids
The father that forgot his daughters birthday
The father that is “old school”
Which just means
Sexist
And homophobic
Blood doesn’t mean family

Next is the sister
The sister that supports me
The sister that laughs with me
The sister that understands how I feel
The sister that helps me when I need it
The sister that believes in me
That loves me
The sister creates fun and amazing stories and experiences with me
Just because she’s in the mood to have fun
The sister that raised me to be a good person
That taught me
And teaches me
How to get through life
Blood doesn’t mean family

Finally
The friends
The friend that gave me a reason to live
The friend that gave me a reason to laugh
The friend that showed me that it can get better and that they love and care for me and they don’t just “hope I get through this” but that they are going to be there and make sure that I get through this
The friend that marched with me with a rainbow
The friend that treated my relationships the same as straight ones
The friend that told me she’s open to the experience if I want to kiss her
The friends that I can flirt with and we laugh about it
The friends that I can flirt with and it becomes a little more than just friends
The friends who maybe I’m not as close with but who still show interest in my life and what I’m interested in and let me talk about activism because it makes me happy to empower people
The friend that made me believe in beautiful
The friend that stayed up with me when I had a nightmare about my molesting and help my hand until I fell back asleep
The friend that stated up all night on FaceTime singing songs together from our favourite band
The friend that boosts my ego when we go to the gym
The friend that cried when she found out I self harmed
The friends that worry about me and want me to get better
The friends that live far away
The friends that live close by
The friends that have shown me more love and happiness in the past year than I’ve known my whole life
The friend that was there even when I felt numb to the world and they just let me be but they made sure I know they’re here
The friends that ask questions when they don’t understand
The friends that are interested in what I do
The friends that offer me a place to stay should I need it
The friends who make sure I eat
The friends who worry when I don’t eat
The friends who sit at the back of the bus
The friends who get drunk
The friends who throw skittles at people
The friends who are in my class
The friends who are older than me
The friends who are younger than me
The friends who help me with homework
The friends who show me there are good people in the world
The friends
Who stick by me
And show me
That
Blood doesn’t mean family

We don’t choose the situation we are born into
But we do get to choose
Who our family is
So thank you
To my real family
For not only keeping me alive
But making me happy to be.

I saw you; I swear I saw you.
You and your divine attitude .

I could tell you were living in a beautiful life.
You loved your wife, as a man, working hard and trying to provide.

As I was watching you running miles, I couldn’t stop imagining how I could make you shy.

Firstly, I would invite you to a room where you wouldn't see the sunlight.

Then, you would be tied.

“Oh, I see red, Are you shy?”
I smiled and said: “Sorry, my darling, I have to apologise.”

It was only your blood that covered my eyes

The tango was still going, and I started to wonder why
Why you ended up crying, shouting and dying

Was it your holy innocence?

Thinking hurts, worse than the cuts on your flesh.

Let’s just both wave and say goodbye.

“Bye, dear stranger.”
You were sleeping like an angel
“fine, I would help you.”

“Bye world, bye.”