I am,

a sentence without a full stop,
a question without an answer,
a problem without a solution,
a person without a name,
a life without a goal,

Thats who I am.

I feel useless.
I feel trapped in a preciously dangerous box
but it seems that no one wants me out
Only restrained
By the fickle hope that maybe someday I will be normal.

Like other girls.

I want to be the smartest girl  
or maybe the prettiest girl for once?

l want to be the one that stands out
I desire your recognition of my accomplishments,
which aren't too many and much to be proud of.

I want to be someone's something
That maybe leaves them awestruck
And I can't help thinking that
maybe
I am it,
but how useless would that be,
to assume I am everyone's something?

It’s 2 am
And I can hear something
I make out the voices of my parents
Yelling and screaming
I **** awake,
And listen to their “conversation”
I know they are fighting about
Something Trivial
I just cower under my bed covers
Knowing I will feel the backlash in the morning
I can hear their fight escalate
I can hear the things they yell
“You’re useless”
“It’s all your fault”
“Why don’t you just leave?”
I know the answer to that one at least,
They stay together for my siblings and I.
I just fear the day when they finally realize
We are adult enough to handle a divorce.
I fear the day they realize
We aren’t enough to keep them together
I just fear the day they acknowledge
The growing gap between them

A great musician is someone whos a
Rhythmic Philosopher
getting life
perfect in the music
But most of the time being
completely useless at the real thing itself