i have anxiety
undiagnosed.

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.

all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.

i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull

i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.

On this day back in January
I was scrolling through Instagram,
and I found this girl,
this very pretty girl.

I started following her
and then I added her on snapchat
She and I then started talking, hitting it off,  
that's when we became Internet Best Friends.

This specific girl tells me a lot
I talk to her a lot,
we talk almost every single day for the last 8 weeks
since January 19th to be exact.

This girl lives 1,515 miles away,
22 hours and 28 minutes.

This specific girl I'm talking about is my best friend,
My Internet Best Friend to be exact.

June 30, 2019
I'm going to leave my house,
drive three days,
the 1,515 miles,
and many states
just to meet my Internet Best Friend.

If I could wake up tomorrow
And be someone new
I’d hope to be someone
That didn’t care about you

A person who wakes up
And smiles at the sun
Not a recluse
That hides from fun

Someone who looks in the mirror
And values themself
Not insecure
Loathing herself

I wish to be someone
Free as a bird
Not someone who cares
What others have heard

But when I wake up
I will still be me
Hoping and wishing
One day I’ll be free

Poetry
to me
is taking
my pain
and making
it sing.