those of us who are lost and low

so i’m really tired of being punished for other people’s drama.

is there a reason that mando hasn’t answered me, two days later? is there a reason that every other friend of ours has liked the cute portrait of me and andrew on twitter except her? i know she’s had to have seen it. i know she’s been on discord. like, why am i getting ignored because she’s mad at gabby.


so.. is this actually a big deal or am i feeling some kind of way because i’m having a day where i feel insipid and small?

i. today my skin doesn’t fit right and i need…
is it validation? it it combustion?
exercise? coffee? attention? evaporation?
an old vice? a new virtue?

ii. do i need to swallow the pent-up words threatening to spill over my lips?
derive a sort of twisted nourishment from my inexplicable rage and hurt?
should i breathe in positives and breathe out negatives
until my sails have deflated and i am forced to drift without purpose?

iii. i told my best friend yesterday that my whole life right now is
being mad on other people’s behalf and
when did i re-assume my old mantle of
impotent advocate
spinning my wheels, but oh! what glorious noise!

iv. how can i be anything to myself and
understand my needs when i’m
helpless in the face of distance
no method of aid but conversation
and every conversation starter feels like a cry for attention?

do i deserve attention?

v. of course i do. and of course they do.
of course. but then
why does it feel pointed today
like one too many non-sequiturs
is to be pitied-
how desperate, how sad

vi. i am screaming to the void and the void is
but my skin still doesn’t fit the way it should
and i can’t be distracted from it
not by work, or music, or words

vii. please god make me a stone so i might have peace
so i can stop vibrating and
stop caring and
know what it means to rest

viii. it. does. not. matter.

ix. banking your anger never works
but it might be all i have today
my pockets, seething, full of slights
my hands, empty but always grasping
for some sign of affection

x. i had hoped i left this feeling behind
with being sixteen, with codependent best friends
and here i am again,
begging for someone to tell me i am important

xi. i am blessed with an embarrassment of affection
and yet days like today burn it all away and leave me with
a gnawing, yearning disappointment
that i cannot be all things to all people
that i am frustrating, and fallible and
a let down, probably, not worth the hype and
if only i could be better
maybe someone would care enough to notice

xii. foolish child, i name myself
we have walked this road before
time and time again we have coveted the illusion
and been damaged in the fall
have you not learned?

xiii. how do we conclude today?
with tired eyes and heavy hearts?
with the approximation of a smile?
with music, unheard? words, uncomprehended?
questions unanswered and lingering dissatisfaction?

xiv. today i want neither revolutions or revelations
unless they are accompanied by resolutions
solid ground to rebuild
new homes for new understandings
new graves for old ghosts
(at least i can say i’m getting better at recognizing them)

xv. maybe it doesn’t matter but
that’s not the point


well, i feel better i guess? that sure was a whole lot for a thursday afternoon. whoops.

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