Detached.
A stranger standing
In front of me.
Extrinsically scrutinizing
This figure staring back at me.
Eyes dead like a corpse
An expression of no remorse.
How did I get here!
Here, I stare.
I stare at a reflection I don't endorse.
Startled by who stands before me.
This is not who I want to be.

im not the girl that parties with strangers on friday nights
to drown her broken past
with a large bottle and a little white pill

im not the girl that sends scandalous pictures by night
and wears a pristine uniform by day
for her picture perfect parents

im not the girl that appears okay with the sun
but after the moon comes out
her porcelain skin is bloodied and bruised from her own monsters

no, im not that girl.

so who the hell am i to you?

I'm learning about life in a bubble.
I'm learning to use words but not speak.
So when I talk it sounds rehearsed or fake,
Until I don't even know who I am or how I arrived here;
but I look and dress and act like all the figures around me.
Am I part of this?
Is this really who I’ve decided to be?

I'm there, but invisible.
I think that I'm invincible.
But I'm no Iron Man.

I try to be a Green Lantern
In a room full of Red Lanterns.
But trying is never enough.
Trying is never good enough.

Rage-filled regret
Strength-radiated reliance.
They call me devoted
Little do they know,
I've just deviated
From them all.

They tell me not to
Put up a fake front
A façade of sorts.
But I have to
To hide my scars
And shattered mind.

To say that
I'm good
When I'm not
Like aspiring to be
Like Atlantis
A picturesque paradise
An upsized utopia
An insecure phobia.

We were born
Into this world
Told that we were meant to
Change it.
Told that we were
Superheroes and princesses.

But I'm no Superman.
I'm a Sentry at war
With my own self
With those around me
With my own mind.

The happiness that I see
Is one that I cannot bear
Like Batman re-living
Past deaths in his lair.

I live it everyday
Feet full of lead
Like Doomsday and Superman
Here I lay,
On the ground,
Dead.

I have a heart
That nobody owns.
Pride and honour
Stripped from my bones.

The truth always hiding
Behind close curtains
Heavy burdens
Open doors
Chaotic wars

Demons drag me back forever  
Shadows surround me wherever
I want to be with her, however,
Whatever.

Drives of pain,
Stress stuck in this brain
Of mine
Not owned
I try not to cry
I’m fine.

Punches thrown
Like rain hitting a puddle.
I want to curl up
And cuddle.

They keep coming back.
It’s like ******.
Vision narrowing
Demons echoing

Master of disguise
Deception
Of all the lies
Perception.

Silence is all they see.
Crying for help.
Wounds so deep.
Smiling for them.
So they can be reassured
That I’m cured.

I'm the girl
Keeping secrets
Bottled up tight
The girl
With parents(dad)
Who yell day and night
The girl
Who's never been
Quite good enough
The girl
Crying inside
But acting all tough
You tell me sweet things
That I've never heard
Suddenly "beautiful"
Is more that just a word

One moment I’m happy,
The world’s within my grasp,
I’m invincible,
I made it at last.
The next moment I’m hopeless,
Fragile as glass,
I’m weak,
Please don’t break me.
And after that I’m excited,
I want to make plans,
I’m a social butterfly,
I stretch my wings.
Soon after I’m lonely,
I remedy with canceled plans,
I’m too tired,
Please don’t make me go.
And round and round,
Just like this,
This is how I live,
A sick twister of emotion.
I’m dizzy,
Hit the breaks,
Don’t make me stay on, done.
But in the end,
Do I even know who I am?
Sometimes I’m rain,
To a heat scorched land.
Sometimes I’m the heat,
That drives away the water.

Who am I?
Am I who I used to be?
Am I who I'll become?

I can say one thing for sure.
I'm not who I was.
I never used to have to cry myself to sleep before all this started.
I never used to have to talk myself down
When I just wanted it to end.
I never even wanted it to end.

That still leaves that open-ended question: Who am I?
I've lost myself.
I've not only lost myself,
I've lost everyone I ever loved.

Back to the questions.
Am I who you want me to be?
Am I who I want to be?
Am I just a machine to be reset and programmed,
Over and over again?


I've found myself.
I am an imprint of the pain
I inflicted upon myself by thinking these thoughts.
I am just a machine that doesn't think for itself.
To be reset and reprogrammed
Over and over again.

we are not
a country,
we are not
patriots,

just
individuals,
meant to follow
our heart,

the rest
is ingrained,
indigested,
strained
into us,

we are not
borders,
we are not
boundaries,

we are much
more than flags,
shrouds and
two days in a
year of

tricolours...

who am I?
is where
it begins...