Looking around the park, there are people —
couples, friends, family.
Some are holding hands in the sunlight,
some are laughing as if the world has no wounds,
and some just talk
softly, like the moment will last forever.

I watch as their faces light up,
and I wish —
I wish it was me.
Me holding someone’s hand.
Me having a ride-or-die.
Me having a partner for life.

Looking up into the sky, I ask,
“When is it my turn to be loved?
To not be a burden,
for it not to be one-sided.”

I look back down. I see no one by me.
No fingers lace with mine.
No one is laughing beside me.
No one is with me.
And no one notices.

I am used to being alone,
though I don’t like it,
but I tell people I do,
so they don’t pity me,
so people don’t worry.

I sit down on the bench, unseen,
and alone.

she handed me a chopping board
wrapped in cheap red paper,
with a card tucked neatly inside:
“since you like to slice yourself,
why not make it useful?”

merry christmas.

i stared at it—
wooden, plain,
cleaner than i’ve ever felt.
everyone else
pretended to laugh.
or worse—
pretended nothing happened.

no one stopped her.
no one looked at me.
i was thirteen
and bleeding invisibly.

she jokes like i’m not alive,
like my pain is some inside gag
she shares with herself
while i sit there,
swallowing the sound of my own heartbeat
because it’s the only thing i know
that hasn’t turned against me.

i started hurting myself
when she moved in.
not for drama.
not for show.
but because the ache in my chest
had nowhere else to go.

my skin became
a secret diary
she somehow still read.

they won’t let me get help.
say i’m too young,
too fragile,
too… dramatic.

but i’m old enough
to wake up alone in a dorm bed,
wanting to disappear
before the day even begins.

i pay for my own classes
because she says i’m too stupid
to waste money on.
i win races
because running is the only time
i feel like i’m moving away from her
fast enough.

sometimes i run
until my lungs burn.
until my legs forget
they belong to a girl
who flinches at kindness
because it feels like a setup.

i don’t want revenge.
i don’t want her to hurt.

i just want a birthday
without fear.
a christmas
without cruelty.
a life
where love doesn’t come with teeth.

and maybe—
just maybe—
a version of myself
who can look in the mirror
and see more
than what she tried to carve out of me.

You never took up space,
And raged only in private.
I know, I was there.

I heard your natural voice
Before it was edited and rebranded.

But you've always been magnificent.

Back then your innocence was
hazardous to your health.
I was there.

I loved you enough to hide you.

I held closed your wounds in
The quiet embrace of the closet.

You're older now,
Outpacing the daydreams
that kept you alive.

Brandishing a loose razor
To cut only through the dogma.

You held on to life then,
And you hold all the power now.

I am there.