The carpet reeks of mud and scraps of food
I can feel them crawling on me
Eight little legs, eight little eyes
Scampering, clawing, biting, digging
Through the cracks of my skin, my molecules, atoms
They’re in my veins, my brain
Am I anything? Am I gone? Am I nothing
But webs, tangled, rotten?
Cut me open. Stick a hose in my mouth.
Wash them away.
I can feel them crawling on me.

I just wanted someone like you
To like me too.

I walk in the cold
and watch the snow fall

Snowflakes burning my lips,
kissing my skin
landing in my hair
stick to my lashes

I wish I could admire every single one
take the time to see their shape
know them deeply
love them generously
as I want done to me

her words settle like dust
on the edges of mirrors
i already avoid.

she called me names
i’ve spent years
unlearning.

her voice wasn’t loud,
but it carried—
straight to the part of me
that still believes
every insult
ever whispered.

i tell myself she’s wrong,
but i know i’ll carry this
long after she’s forgotten
she ever said it.

I'll continue to use my words to light up the rest of the world.

As it does people's eyes when I speak.

Preach.

Talk.

Because emotions I find stronger than words,

Hold comfort behind the stiffness of the letters.

My words have no movement, my feelings linger on the pages.

But they do not waltz or cheer.

Yet yearn to escape me and the blank lined cage.