there's something missing
i still confuse
what is missing from me
Myself?
or
Someone else?
or
i miss someone
that make me miss my ownself
i miss the apple
i miss the hairtie
i miss the glasses
i miss all of that
because that're the things
i can make me be myself
i can smile because i want to
i can laugh because i want to
not because i need to
I'm not the same anymore
it feels like i have
many faces
many mask


-S.I

i am renewed
i have 3 blonde streaks in my hair
i wear an anklet and an initial necklace and
gold and silver rings
this is senior year me
i always have my toes painted
and a hairtie is always on a wrist
the new and improved Everly
she still writes however more vivid
pictures to be drawn in the minds of strangers
through the coming together of letters
strung together like beaded bracelets from the deli-
more refined its magnificent
she doesnt use her pseudonym anymore
its just- her.
brown noise and its so sweet
frizzy curls entangled in music notes that swim in the air
and its all chaotic serenity

My phone's charging port broke,
maybe.... jeez, I don't know.
Maybe, five or six months ago?
Since then I've been restricted
to only using wireless chargers.
At work I need my GPS often,
and so my phone doesn't die
I keep a wireless charger
rubber banded
to the back of my phone...

...anyway...

I took Emily's headband
and threw it out,
it was hanging in the bathroom
for awhile.

I took Alyssa's painting
off the wall.

I threw that out too.


Found a hairtie
on the closet doorknob
and I went to go toss it,
but my phone was dead
and I didn't have a
rubber band
to keep my wireless charger
on the back of my phone
during my car trip to work.

So I used the hair tie.

I don't remember who's it was, but
Sara got in my car and saw it sitting there.

Stupid. Inconsiderate.
I try clearing all the leftover ****
out of my life,
and only end up
drawing attention to it.

i stand on the bar, glass in my hand doing little to keep the sweet liquid in it
"this one's for me!" and they all cheer.
and in that moment they're all rooting for me,
they want me to fulfill my dreams, reach all my goals, be happy.
finally.
and this one is for me.
the me dancing with strangers, more alone than ever
the me dying on the cold bathroom tile (i found her hairtie in the back of a drawer)
the me screaming at everything i love, begging it not to love me back.
this one is for me.
when i graduated high school
when my mother uttered the elusive "i'm proud of you"
when i finally, finally stopped trying to **** myself
this one's for me!
when i stood after dying in the bathroom
when i saw the cuts on my legs and i wasn't scared
when i said "i love you" to a dancing stranger and i meant it. i still do.
this one is for myself, and the wet, sticky bar beneath me agrees.