finally wrote a poem about me that is nice.
was nice...
will be nice -  
when you stop pitying me.

one nice poem out of
many, many hateful
poems.

you write more flowery than me
maybe even better
i feel that i should struggle with that
be angry with you
my little
sister
taking one more thing that is mine and making it yours

it is ok.
if it makes you happy, makes you feel better, makes you smile, makes you feel accomplished, makes you feel smart, and
ok,
then
it is
ok.
it is even
good. maybe you even need it more than i do.

maybe i don't even need it anymore.
i don't know what i need.
i don't know where my reason went.
i just know that if you are happy,
no matter how disillusioned you are in your happiness,
it is
o
k.

“1. When you’re trying to fall asleep at night and it feels like your world is crashing down on you, walls closing in, suffocating you as you clutch his pillow to your chest, breathe. It’ll get easier every night.                                     You'll be okay.
2.When you’re out at the mall and you see a couple holding
hands and kissing, don’t text him that you miss him. Remember that there was a time before him and you were fine. So breathe.
You’ll be okay.
3.When you find out he’s met someone new, you will
shatter again. Your knees will cave beneath you and you will cry, and scream, and plead with God to give him back to you. Just remember that it’s okay to not be okay all the time and to try to breathe through the pain.
You’ll be okay.
4.One day, you’ll wake up, and you’ll go about your day,
not realizing that you didn’t think of his smile and those big brown eyes once. But until then, breathe.
You’re gonna be okay.”

you really like
labels.

you like being able to say
"i have THIS"
or "i have THAT"
now the therapist can begin a new ritual
a new rain dance
a new prance of prescription
to make me feel better about myself.

dyslexic
anxiety
adhd
PTSD

google is your doctor
informing you of all the ways you are ill
and without a formal analysis
you diagnose yourself
and then inform the world.

you like being able to articulate what is wrong with you
so people will stop accusing other outside forces
of being the cause
like maybe
mommy
problems.

this makes it all easier. because honestly
you don't know
what is wrong with you.
and you don't know
how to make your lungs feel able to breathe alright again
though you profess you do...
and that my lungs are in need of your theripistal jargon as well -
personal salvation at the hands of a 16 year old child.


i have seen more than you.
and the more that i have seen i have even understood better
and fully.

want to get wordy?
i was able to
cognitively deduce the situation
because my brain was fully developed.

tell THAT to your therapist.

my mother loved me so
she burnt my heart out
before i met you

my father loved me so
he handed me his anger
before i met you

my family loved me so
there was nothing left
when i met you.

Cold Coca Cola at midnight,
Steaming showers and dripping floors,
Meeting her lips in the morning,
And holding her close like I adore.
Surviving without judgement,
And talking without censors,
Absorbing every moment,
Knowing it may not last forever.

Never is it flawless:
Sometimes mistakes call to fights,
But with patience and understanding,
Broken words can mend by night;
Kissing away the burning tears,
And sacrificing time to stay,
Hugging through the creeping fears,
But knowing tomorrow brings a new day.

And never before
Would I have allowed someone this close,
And I know in my heart,
I never want to let this girl go.