lizie

lizie Jun 5

“i think i hate everyone here,”
i texted.
and it was true.
in the crowded room
with people laughing too loud,
i wasn’t, though.
i felt small.
not lonely exactly,
just misplaced.

but if you were here,
i think i’d scoot my chair real close
in the way that says,
“thank god you get it,”
we’d make fun of everyone else
without even saying a word,
just one look
and i’d feel understood.
i would laugh,
and make you laugh too.

maybe i don’t hate everyone.
maybe i just miss you
in places
that don’t feel like mine
without you.

lizie Jun 5

for you to notice

it’s weird.
it feels like everything i do
is for you to notice.

but somehow,
you notice things
no one else ever has.
things even i
never knew were there.

i feel like a silly child! but it’s true. everything i do is for you to notice. i think you do. sometimes

lizie Jun 5

eye contact

for once,
no one talked over me.
the air felt light.
we kept meeting eyes
across the noise.
not awkward,
just right.

lizie Jun 4

blue scissors

i still remember the first time.
i was fourteen.
things were starting to break.
friends turning distant,
the girls who used to carry me
now looking the other way.

i grabbed a pair of kids’ scissors.
they were blue.
my cheeks were soaked with tears.
i had never done this before,
but i had heard about it.

i put the blade to my wrist.
it hurt.
a lot.
but i did it again.
and again.

we made up the next day.
everything seemed okay again.
but i didn’t stop.
i liked the sting,
going to school with it still burning.

blue scissors turned into
pocket knives,
kitchen knives,
blades from pencil sharpeners.
i cried when nothing came out.

and later,
when my whole arm went numb,
i didn’t stop.
i think i liked that, too.
i don’t know why.

i still have the blue scissors.

lizie Jun 4

i wish

i wish sadness didn’t feel
like something i had to hide.
that it could just be
without alarms going off.
without threats of white walls
and blank stares.

i wish the boy i love could hold my hurt
without thinking it’s about him.
i wish being broken
didn’t break everyone else.

i wish i was thirteen.
when my best friend lived next door
and the girl down the street still liked me
and the world hadn’t begun
falling out from under my feet.

i wish jazz felt like freedom,
not failure.
i wish i still stood out,
instead of drowning
in the effort it takes
just to stay average.

i wish my world
didn’t end
every
single
day.

lizie Jun 4

sinking

i thought today
maybe things were feeling better.
a little lighter.

but it’s not true.
not anymore.
things are still heavy.

and im
s
  i
   n
    k
     i
      n
       g

lizie Jun 4

a note to no one

she told me to cover up the scars.
i told her
no one ever noticed.

she said that couldn’t be true.
but it was.

no one gasped.
no one asked.
they just looked through me,
like pain’s not real
unless it begs.

she says she doesn’t understand.
says i have no trauma.
i guess sadness needs a villain
to be taken seriously.

but what if i’m the villain?
what if the hurt
comes from me?
what if i broke myself
before anyone had the chance to?

what if no one saw
because
they never looked?