i wish lexapro made me feel better.
or at least numb.
anything but this hurt.

mom says
i’m the best person she knows.
i smile.
i’m good at pretending.

she says i’m kind,
but i know when it’s a performance.
she says i’m gifted,
but it feels like a trick
i’m barely pulling off.

my sax squeaks,
my test scores blur,
my muscles ache in the water.
and still she calls it talent.

i nod along,
quiet and guilty.

if i’m so good,
why do i always
feel like a lie?

baby,
when i say i love you
i’m half-asleep
and whole in it.

you’re the reason
i don’t need
a wind-down.

i close my eyes
and fall
into you.

i slide the blade
s l o w l y
across my pale, soft skin.
it burns,
i don’t smile.
but it’s satisfying to watch
the blood pool in beads.
it hurts.
but it doesn’t hurt as much
as the pain i caused you today.
so i do it again.

green means go
but i hesitate.
because every green light
turns yellow eventually,
and i’ve learned to fear
what’s coming.

it’s not really about driving.
it’s just,
every time life feels good,
i’m already scared
of losing it.

“have there been any safety concerns
since last week?”
“no,” i lie,
hoping she doesn’t
see the truth
sitting heavy in my eyes.

“have there been urges?”
“yes,” i say,
truthfully,
but like i’m afraid she’ll flinch.

“why don’t you act on them?”
“because i’m not allowed to anymore.”
it was the truth,
just wrapped in a lie.

she smiles.
“that’s adorable.”

summer with you
will be
forbidden meetings
and “tell me about your day.”
laughing in whispers,
loving in glances,
missing each other
endlessly and unforgivingly.

it will be
the ache of wanting more
and the sweetness of having enough.
murmurs of nothing across screens,
and talking in code,
listening to songs that only we understand.

it will be
the quiet promise
that we’ll stick together
in every way we know how.
new, different,
a little secret,
but still,
undeniably us.