should i be overcome with possibility or with a weak frame of mind? what do you have in mind, wise one? are your cheek bones usually this sunken in? does the setting horizon usually mirror your image? does the pain you feel define you? how shall it not? i slept for years in a bed that wasn’t mine, scared of my shadow, scared of the phantoms in the closet. i performed for myself. is that why i never felt belonging or a longing to my own self, as my own entity? i forgot what life meant in my rampant race for closure. i found out your mind can lie. it can scheme. it can puncture a lung. it can violate you and you won’t even pay mind to it. it will feel like kindness and maybe it is because you are weak. the flood can creep in when you are sleeping. it can suffocate you when you are unaware. my compassion gets mistaken, i know. the storm can brew right upon your doorstep, leaving you no time to stop it. does the dismantling of others make you a deity? i’d like to know if the pillow you sleep on at night is too firm or too perfect. cause when i sleep, i hear a distant rumbling, and no, it doesn’t send me to sleep. it drives me to the brink of insanity. it doesn’t hurt to be alone, it hurts to be seen yet ignored, it hurts to be invisible. yet sometimes, i want to hide from the impending doom. there is a spirit inside of my head, but i think it is myself because i don’t believe in such things. sometimes i speak to the ghosts of the people that have left me. through my writing, i see rhymes where they weren’t before and i see meaning where i only saw words. i have forgotten the meaning of happiness. i have forgotten the feeling of belonging. i have forgotten the meaning of bliss. there are some days i forget the void in my stomach exists, but it still constantly persists. i feel like i’ve watched my life unfold like a film reel. it’s going by so fast, but i’m like a zombie with this internal pace. i can’t find meaning in things. yet, as i watched the stars in the deep night sky, i felt so tiny compared to them. they have been around forever. every person that has suffered a disaster looked up to the stars to find a helping hand. and they found it. for me, i’m afraid to expose myself to the world. even to the stars in my backyard. they are floating ***** of light and what am i? something of such lower significance. what am i and why does life feel like a switchblade in my neck? my faint revolution will be peace and anger and blurted words i kept inside so long. i don’t belong, and i’m just so sorry God. i will try. i have tied my wings back. shall i fly or will i break and come crashing back into this negligible dead land? will i be the daughter that even strangers are proud of or will i be the lump in your throat, the unwashed laundry, the burnt toast? i can’t feel who i am, the numbness has set over me. i failed you, but i will still try. make no mistake. yet if the mountains descend over my body, i will be taken and there will be not much left of me. when the birds have pecked at my skin and my eyes have lost their irises, how will i see myself? as the flesh decomposes, what will remain?