I thought I found My Thing
The one I'm the best at.
That girl walks in,
just at day one.
She's talented,
pretty, perfect,
better.

All my years of hard work
crushed.
Within seconds.
I'm not good enough.
Ever.
Am I?

Every time I think I found My Thing,
it gets taken away from me.

I know I'm selfish but
why
only for one time,
Can't I
be the best?

we’re half way finished
half way there
we’ve almost done it
just two more years

when freshman year started
we couldn’t wait for it to end
but now it’s almost here
i wish we could go back
and do it all again

to fix the mistakes
to say the right things
and to not give my heart
to a boy by who i am hated

i want to be young again
to get back those two years
all i can remember are pain and tears
now we have to plan for the future

we have to plan the rest of our lives
how do you do that?
my life was more together when i was five
i know who i want to be
but i don’t know who i am

i’m only 16
these plans feel to big for me
but we’re half way finished
we’re half way there
we’ve almost done it
just two more years

she was the girl who never put her body on display.
her hair was always put in a loose braid
her lips sealed shut with a pained smile every once and awhile
he was the guy who laughed loudly at the front of the class after a hard night
his hair fell perfectly on his sculpted face.
his humour being rude and sarcastic.
baseball was his life
now, darling, this is no love story.
you'd expect them to be polar opposites.
but the fresh cuts on both their wrists forbid me to assume that.
for they were best friends
he made her feel safe
she made him feel seen
they understood each other
they understood how the pain makes everything all better
it’s one of the most tragic fairytales of all

Wear the logo.
Sip the overpriced latte.
Smile like you belong.

But deep down—
you traded truth
for a tag.

Fake gold glows too,
until it rains.

Don’t plant your worth
in damp soil
just to grow rice
for someone else’s plate.

Luxury?
Maybe.
But only if illusion is your favorite fabric.

Real talk—
your worth isn’t worn,
it’s lived.