Your face is a stone slate
I feel my heart begin to palpitate.
A swing of a fist,
the crashing of metal.

My eyes are black.
Not like the night sky, speckled with stars
or like obsidian.  Just black.
Just mine.

I try to follow yours
To track your mind,
but the clocks look wierd and time seems to bind.
A dream like trance you've locked me in blind.

The things you have done in your life.
You may have never noticed my strife
or affliction by caused by your carelessly swung hand.  
or maybe
you had me at your feet
and you never looked down to see

It pains me to not be understood
but I niether care for being percived.
And part of me must always grive
for the girl that could never be.
  
But please,
Don't look me in my eyes,
for you may see what you pretend doesn't exist.

I’ve stood at the edge
of so many beginnings—
just close enough to taste them,
never close enough to stay.
The door always slightly ajar,
never open.
I want to be more than a shadow of almost.

People call me potential,
but never presence.
A promise, not a person.
Their faith feels like fog—
thin and disappearing
the moment I reach for it.
I want to be more than a shadow of almost.

I speak like I know who I am,
but the echo doesn’t agree.
My words crumble in my mouth
before they ever build meaning.
Even my hope sounds rehearsed.
I want to be more than a shadow of almost.

I dream in color,
but live in grayscale.
My hands stretch forward
but always fall short—
of the vision,
of the version
of me I thought I’d be by now.
I want to be more than a shadow of almost.

So I write.
I bleed ink and silence
trying to draw a shape
that feels like truth.
And maybe one day,
I’ll look back
and see I was becoming all along.
I want to be more than a shadow of almost.

Let us stay a little while,
midst the light and bloodied bile,
let us see what we can see
with our deceiving eyes.

The mother feeds their child,
and the scorching sun rises.
The lakes glisten like stars
and the birds sing again.

They're playing soccer.
And talking.
And having fun.
With eachother.

The plants move and twist,
and the tide ebbs and flows.
The grass is emerald.

They invite you in.
It just isn't for you.
If only it was.

The sky is an ocean of blue.
The birds fly like scattered sand.
  
You start doing your homework.

You like it.
You love it.
It's great.

It's fun.
It's so, so fun!
So fun...
that tears run down.

Yet your eyes are hollow.
Your head is full of soot.
Why?

i have realized i can't stand being touched.
not after him.
i crave the warmth of another soul,
but i flinch, i shrink, dread settling in.

breaths ragged like the flowers
i once placed in his hair.
a scream claws at my throat,
i can't stand to be here.

release me from his phantom jaws,
let me force life back into my lungs.
his behavior never gave him pause,
i can't stand to see what he has brung.

i need to be held, to be warm.
to be safe and nestled by your form.
so please be patient, and never ask why
i cry when you graze my scars
with nothing but something truly kind.

I’m no longer a kid.
I care what people think of me;
the way I act,
the way I look,
the clothes I wear.

I’m no longer a kid.
Back then, letters were only building blocks used for spelling,
Why do they now mark the corner of my work?
Why do they determine my academic future?

I’m no longer a kid.
My tears are no longer spilled over a grazed knee
For now they pour over anxious thoughts-
Will they ever stop falling?

I'm no longer a kid.
We were told to be bodies full of kindness,
because everyone deserves love.
Why are some people treated differently?

I’m no longer a kid.
The world has opened up it’s true self to me
and now I drown in it.

-thelosstpoetjournals