hey guys! so this poem is part of a series i call my “hourly poems” which are obviously… for every hour of the day and the mood i think that hour represents. i’ll probably be posting some more of these over the next couple weeks… so keep  your eyes out! 🙂

it’s not the things you say that scare me. ‘cause i can handle the empty punches. you don’t know me, and you cannot yank my self-esteem out of my chest if you don’t even know where my heart is; i’ve been there, done that, protected myself with so many padlocks and camouflaged my emotions so thoroughly that sometimes i’m not sure anyone even notices only to shout them to the world, maybe just out of loneliness. no. what scares me is that the monsters look so human; can sit right beside you in your early-morning class and as long as you keep your head down they look just the same as everyone else; do not walk around with labels on their heads. it’s that it’s like we’re all playing nicky-nicky-nine-doors on each other’s hearts, knocking on lobby doors only to run away because we’re scared of being seen by anyone who might notice there’s a person, buried somewhere inside us, underneath false smiles and wreckage. it’s that. sometimes i wonder if any of us ever sleep at night, or if we just stay awake, pretending we need nothing, pretending we’re ok, when none of us are ok, when the phrase “everyone has something” feels more like a curse than a blessing. it’s that i think i would go to war if that meant you would love me more than anything, compromising my values for my sanity. so it’s not the words that scare me, it’s that you’re willing to hand them out to strangers and be ok with that when you do not even know the targets of your hatred. it’s that there’s that much hatred bubbling just below the surface. it’s that you’re willing to hand it out to strangers. it’s that that’s “all right.” it’s that this is your “normal.” it’s that you seem to think that if you laugh hard enough, you won’t even feel anything much. it’s that this is one massive costume party, and none of us know what to do or say so we just sorta stand there, trying to get up the courage to break the ice but not knowing what lies beneath it, and maybe we’ll drown, because we’ve drowned before, so screw icebreakers. icebreakers are dangerous, especially in the summer, when i get so close to screaming. all of this, everything, out onto the ground before me, for better or for worse my heart rushing ahead of my logical reasoning. it’s that. somewhere inside you there’s supposed to be a heart, supposed to be reason and mercy and feelings, only i’ve looked, and i’ve tried, and i’ve followed the directions google gave me and now i’m sort of standing here, in the middle of nowhere. and i can’t find it.

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