1. this can’t be happening, because i have dreams to chase. because i’m fourteen and the ball is rolling for me, or that’s what my english teacher said. she said i hope it doesn’t stop and i felt like i was flying, when they said they were proud of me. this doesn’t happen, not to me. ‘cause someone bigger and smarter’s gonna make it ok. it’s just another two weeks, it’s just another two days. it’s just another holding-your-breath-underwater kind of day.
2. and i didn’t ask to be thrown
into this fucked up shitstorm of anger and hope
i didn’t ask to spend all day sitting alone
and trying to get out of bed
i’ll watch shitty tv until my brain turns to mush
just write and write and write for hours on end
and the sound of the blender
or a car going past
is enough to melt me down to tears and i’m screaming
and i’m slamming the door
and you were supposed to stop this from happening
you were supposed to be good, and fair
but you weren’t, you fucking shit
you walked out and you left me
standing all alone in the thick of it
3. but i can’t be feeling this, i can’t deal with it, or i’m going to shut down. i’m gonna stare at the pictures on my phone until my eyes glaze over, and i don’t feel quite so alone. i’m gonna crumble like the dry, hot summer soil any other way. god is dead, but mostly so are all my heroes. so is everyone i thought i could turn to in a crisis; they’re just gone gone gone like whispers in the night. and those that remain are flickers of light across the bay. (i’d rather they were dead to me; i’d rather close my eyes and watch the hurt fade away like wildfire smoke.)
4. i could dig this grief a garden
or i could fashion it a grave
i could sit in the mud of it for hours
i could stare at this bitch in the mirror, cut off all her hair
watch the new grow back in its place
and feel the years blend together
watch myself get a little bit stronger, and taller
a little bit sharper in the face
i could watch my life roll past me
through the rolled-up car window
just blink and you’ll be nineteen, all living on your own
still swallowing back the lump in your throat
and trying to numb the ache of your old-woman knees
but the one in your chest, it’s cold and it’s empty
singing for something that i will never reclaim
5. and maybe someday my heart won’t feel like a singing bowl
forever ringing out one damn moment in my life
but all i see right now is water, ‘cause i’m standing by the shore
i’m not ready to be an adult
cause i didn’t have the time to be a kid
so i lie down on the rocks and i close my eyes
feel the january waves hit my shoulders, rush over my head
fill my mouth with bitter saltwater
again, again, again.
This one took me ages to write- I’ve been reflecting a lot on how my feelings have changed over the past few years.