I am a human being.
Sometimes I feel I have to
Reiterate
The fact
That I am human.
The other night I woke up
At three thirty four
To be exact.
From a nightmare
Of irrational fears,
And hallucinations.
I laid in bed
In fear
Of my own sanity.
Yet,
As I laid there,
Shaking,
I realized.
I was alone.
It was almost four in the morning,
And I had no one to call.
My best friend?
She has problems of her own.
My boyfriend?
In a different time zone,
Three thousand, seven hundred, and sixty-eight miles
From home.
I was completely,
And utterly,
Alone
With
My
Demon
Thoughts.

And I don’t know why
I feel so alone.
Here I’d thought I’d
Be right at home.
But instead I’m crying,
Lost in my mind.
My thoughts turning
To your devilish kind.
Friends who don’t care,
Of my greatest feats.
Why would it matter,
That I’m one of the elites?
I run, I perform, I work,
And I Dream.
But that doesn’t matter,
To any, it seems.
Instead I seclude,
Retreating to my room.
A forlorn look to
My friends with gloom.
I’m alone.
Unneeded. Unwanted.
And Unacknowledged.
Instead of being praised,
I’m being discouraged.
Why should I try to do so well,
When all I receive is a change in subject?
I thought maybe this year,
I’d earn some respect.
Yet, I cry, I sob,
I fall, I hurt.
Lost in the cowardly
Refusal to assert.
I accept that I’m alone,
Though it brings me to tears.
That’s all I’m good for,
Just another set of ears.
So leave me behind,
A pair of eyes in the dust;
It’s not like there’s anyone else
To trust.

As I sit,
In the room with these,
Savages of social activity,
I see how the system works.

It starts with the gossip,
Then the shaming,
Every snide comment at
Someone’s expense.

Then, back to
“Normal”
Conversation.
“Have you seen this video?”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.”

“Wait, who texted who?”
“She’s doing Him?”
“What are we having for lunch today?”

They speak as if insults are normal!
Ratchet
Loser
****
*******
*****

I really don’t want to
Hear this anymore.

Can you stop?
Or is your tiny brain
Programmed
To speak that way?

“Oh god,
Look at her.
She’s so,
Insert insult here.”

You’re all the same.
Different face,
Same brain.

You
Hipsters of the modern day
Can go jump,
Because your version of
Philosophy
Is matching underwear
And ******* your “friend’s”
boyfriend behind their back.  

Do I want to sit with you?
No.
Why in the hell,
Did you even ask?

Denial.
The first stage of loss.
“No, they’re not gone.
Why would they be?
They’ll be home when
I get there,
Won’t they?”

Anger.
Two on our list.
“Don’t you dare tell me
That they aren’t here!
You know they are!
Shut up!
Stop!”

Bargaining.
Three.
“What if I had done
Something different?
What if I turned left
Instead of right?
What if...”

Depression.
Number four.
“Leave me alone.
No.
I really don’t
Want to
Talk
About it.”

Acceptance.
The last.
“It took so long,
But now I know
That they are
In a better place.
I have loved,
And lost.”

"I'm sorry."
No.
I don't think you are.

I tell you my pain,
Let you into my life,
And all you have to say,
Is "Sorry"?
No.
I don't think you are.

When I am sitting here,
Alone in my room,
Trying to cope,
Trying not to set the blame on me,
And all you can say,
Is "Sorry"?
No.
I don't think you are.

When my parents fight,
When money is tight,
When I try my hardest to put on a smile,
And all you can say,
Is "Sorry"?
No,
I don't think you are.

I rush outside;
Curses and shouts
Reach my ear.
“****.
****-up.
Freak.
*****.”
I don’t know
Anything anymore.
These demons follow,
They tear at me,
And in the end,
I die.

Today

Today I cried.
I tried,
But I couldn’t die.
Pills, pain,
Over, and over
And over again.
Now I’m stuck
In this white-walled hell.
Needles in my skin,
IVs in my veins,
Pumping liquids
And medicines;
Evil preservation of
The human cadaver.