maybe I'm oversensitive
overthinking
overachieving
overstressing
overdoing
but that does not mean
I suffer less
it means I suffer more
because I need others
to tell me
that I'm worth something
if not
then I'm worth  
nothing at all

The knot in my stomach
is far too easy to tie,
I don’t know if it’s because
I’ve grown overly-sensitive,
Or if I’ve become so harshly
allergic to my feelings,
But anything is enough
to bring me to my knees,
A string of words laced
in specific pattern,
Or a series of music notes
arranged just so,
They bring back my past,
Loss, and abuse
grief, and anger,
They bring back
words meant to
knock me down,
And hits meant to ****.
Every time it’s the same,
The same ache coursing
through my veins,
The same jerky
shake of my hands,
The same way I recoil
from my own body in disgust.

my son shall be a reflection of me with the mirror being his mother. he will have my eyes and his mothers heart, my brains but his mothers demeanor. we all know he’ll need it. the courage will come from us both because your mother is a warrior as am i. we fight. never let them see you down son, if you fall remember: gravity centers lowest to the ground, you shall gather yourself up and stand strong. and when the waves come crashing because they will, when they crash just know that you are a warrior. there is no mountain big enough in comparison to your potential, no storm loud enough to quite your spirit and no accolade too great to make you gloat. my son, you were made under the shield of love, so you shall forever be protected. never let anyone tell you otherwise. when you see a man down keep your arms outstretched, warriors can fight for the less fortunate too, but stand proudly in your body. and when they ask why you are who you are you simply respond: I am a reflection of my father in the mirror of my mother.

I didn't ask to be made so sensitive
to have days where words feel like they can bruise me
or looks can cut right through me
I didn't mean to be born with skin as fragile as porcelain
and a heart made of glass
if a small bump can break me,
with one slip I would shatter

I wish that someone will notice...
I wish that someone will notice that I am falling apart...
I wish someone will notice that I am not just sensitive...
I wish someone will notice that I am depressed...
I wish someone will notice that I have anxiety...
I wish someone would notice my scars...
I wish that someone will notice that I have a fake smile...
I wish someone would notice the days I don't eat...
I wish someone would hear me hovered over the toilet...
I wish someone would care enough to even be suspicious of me...
I wish someone would tell me everything will be okay...