why can’t you just get out?

why can’t you just get out? i screamed on that stage

feeling my hands rub together with the friction of my audience

my audience that had been waiting for me for fifteen years to speak up

to describe to them

just how deadly

my silence can be

feeling oddly calm from my stomach to my feet

rolling my hearing aids around in my hand

rolling my tongue around in my mouth to avoid a deaf accent

it felt so liberating

because just this once i ceased the chatter

shoving cotton down their throats

so that even if they tried to speak, their mouths were sewn shut

you could hear a pin drop

could hear their hearts stop

breathlessly drinking my victories and my failures

watching me become a single person

stretching my voice out all the way to the back

to envelop them in a sense of discomfort

i’ve never felt so light

and so burdened

at the same time



some days i know for sure when i am angry.

muscles clench from strained hands

and my patience wears to a thin sheet of ice

my heart pounds with a driving force

so strong i fear it will beat out of my chest

but some days

i do not know

i took the time last night to whisper

“i am not first” into the breath of night

until my mouth was numbed by sleep

and my brain was dumbed by words

i took the liberty of

staring at a nearby tree

its green leaves blurring into a taunting mock

at my silent overreactions

because sometimes

self care is a visitor

knocking on my door with an iron fist

i told myself i must evade thoughtless whispers

and stroking my face with cold hands

i took away from it all

the empty slight feeling of


trying to create something

that did not want to be brought into fruition

hopefully someday i can take into consideration

the amount of worth i really need



are you mad at me?


i’m mad at how i feel

how i got wrapped up in a flurry of dreams

turning to glitter when i wiggled my hands

seeing the sky tinged with pink

floating up to reach the ripples shimmering in the dusk

stars sprinkled like salt, scattered all throughout

smelling the fresh cut grass and immersing my face in it

the prickly stubs gently nicking my face

the pink satin feel of the cherry blossom nuzzling my cheek

imploring me to come home

this morning, the water coming from my face was sweat

of hard work, feel-good hormones

darting away from what i knew was right


the water coming from my face are just tears

having come crawling back

to face reality

knowing there are things

i can never do for you

things i can never quite reach

i suppose i’ve accepted it

i know my shell will become too small for you

and you will leave soon to find a bigger one.

it’s not because my shell isn’t pretty enough,

or that it’s cracked or anything,

you just want to see how

the bigger shell feels

leaving me alone

as everyone does


once again

i find myself alone in my element

today, i walked the junction of three roads

and i saw the silver tongue of a mermaid spilling out

its sharp exhale of untold secrets

wrapping its barbed mouth around my wrist and

pulling me along, digging its

points into my human flesh

sometimes she would smile at me

and i would smile back, only to get a sneer and a scream

like nails on a chalkboard

my sigh is whispering over those

that gargle with colored mouths

especially in the girls dancing in the street

with their rainbow scarves

and flowing dresses

pounding at her embroidered tambourine

hoping to create

the safe space we all talked about so much

i observe people like her every day

since i struggle to be one

and i watch the steady thump of their feet as they run

curling their heel up

and tightening the muscles

to find their safe haven

the problem is

i know my safe haven but

to get to it

i must first endure the personal tourture


being so in sync

yet so separated

amidst all of the chaos reigning thick amongst me

if you’re going through hell

keep going she said to me

in the pale watery bathroom

crying into my worn maroon sweater

clenching the bear trap in my jaw

smiling slightly at the flower tree in the alumnae garden

feeling like i always need to paint away my sorrows

these roses had no thorns

yet for some reason

i have been nicked

my waist being urged up

but my heart being pushed down

save for some special occasion

i realize,

if we did not have what we had today

if the roles were reversed,

would it be the same?

my chest being dug out by a pointed shovel

planting weeds growing solid and intertwining

suffocating me and my infant i hold in my brain

wishing the sun would harvest

some sort of steadfast happiness

i am in flood now

waters over pouring into others

not even Noah’s Ark can save them

from the inevitable danger they must face

if you’re going through hell

keep going he said to me

as i wrenched out a daisy from my veins

and offered it to him, bloody and gut stained

from misuse

funnily enough

my family has less in common

with these people

trying in vain

to see the vine of connection

between us

seeing only

the drought

of a thousand summers


my neck aches again today

but i have no imagery to compare it to tonight

i am simply a girl

trying to make it again and again

wishing there was some other way

to become a different person

i feel i am the only one in this darkness

tracing my fingernail against painted hearts

i think, inside i knew

that it wasn’t going to work out

work out the worked out work

but outing the outed makes my head whirl

and fizz

i suppose it’s a good thing

to help me learn my place

but sometimes i feel it is unnecessary cotton

disguised as silk

not all that glitters is gold

but unfortunately

how would i know what glitters

when all i see

is darkness


i feel


my tongue

numb and useless

sitting and creating my television world

and i am lost in the salt and pepper static, feeding my meat

to the young ones

in an attempt to connect in any sort of way

my wails echoing in the dark cathedral

feeling a chill in a place

i should feel safe in

angry with myself, angry with the world

that it should not stoop to drink water elegantly

slithering under their feet

i found today

she has truly left me

and while i am glad to be rid of her

for some reason, some little part of me

is disgusted at her for being so cruel

as if i am the only one justified to be angry

i know

i am wrong

i like to think i am right but i suppose

my red haired fox shakes his head, waiting for another day

to come running headfirst like a bull

only to have the beautiful garment snatched away

by my raven haired matador

olé, olé, they say

olé to lay today of all days

i suppose in some way

i have gained


even if it was not brought about

in the way i wanted it to

but then again

what is


i think

i see the world differently

than most people my age

not that my way is perhaps


but simply unusual and

divergent than most views

i try to see the good in others first

but those around me point out faults

faults that i choose to ignore

seeing faces light up when

you tell them your favorite thing about them

the wrinkles in the corners of the eyes when you laugh

your inability to hide your emotions

how you get so excited when you see a dog

how you put the milk before your cereal

and how i tease you mercilessly about it

but you put up with it

even when every day

i am negative

i am tired and cranky

and never know what to do

you see the good in me

hopefully, you see the girl

you first met

you first hated

you first loved

in the larger scheme of things,

i think the way your eyes change from blue to green

depending on the sunset

is a home to go back to

or the way you hold my hand-

i had never liked my small hands or feet

until then-

i’m not particularly special

but for some reason

you set me apart from others

the red tulip in a field of yellow

perhaps not ugly

but just






god i wish i could hug him

that’s all

wrap my arms around his neck

and just keep him there

for two minutes

and dream of sunflowers

and soft bedspreads

and natural light

not having to try so hard

and failing to meet their expectations

sweating and working all hours for them

only to be disrespected and ostracized

when asking for one thing

stepping on moss

near a quiet waterfall

and seeing the stream shimmer

with the glossy reflections

of dense palm trees and burgundy bark

laying my head down

on a cloud

feeling the pain in my neck evaporate into

utter bliss

i dreamed last night i was slow dancing

cheek to cheek, wearing a pretty dress

hands around my waist

as all dances go

it wasn’t any sort of real dance

but it felt like it to me

feeling sort of nice

for the first time in a while

waking up and

desperately trying to cling to the whispers

that being the only way

i can get close

without getting caught


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