art and fragments

being alone is what’s most comfortable for me it’s also what scares me the most it is my baseline and my worst fear an essential fact of life and also a failure

heavy heavy heavy

lunchbox in your hand wondering who your teachers will be (4th, 5th) it’ll be me

it’s so cold here blue and grey there’s no warmth to be found just me, alone and small in a world with no spot for me nowhere to turn no cozy refuge just blue and grey and me

i wanna go home, ma, but i don’t know how so instead i’m here trapped as cinderella …a cinderella story

you feel invisible because no one here sees you tragically born into a family without eyes to see it was never you it was never you no one here has the right equipment

looking up at the moon remembering our family trips to the zoo remembering being a child strapped in in the backseat of the car ice cream cone handed to me precious child shown the world cared for, cared for, cared for

feeling like a stone just a hollow shell with these glass eyes cold frame there is no one home won’t you warm me up? palms together like a fire heal me with your hands show me what connection feels like the embrace of another bringing me back to life

do you ever just get sad that everyone is dying and home is evaporating and in some ways it never existed to begin with? sand falling through my fingers

this poem is for everyone who doesn’t know who to put as their emergency contact. everyone who wonders, who stops at the counter, pen hovering above the form when they see that space, scanning their mind for possible people in their life, none of them fitting just right. this is for everyone who feels the grief of never having a safe enough harbor to hold them in their hardest moments. this is for everyone who was never mothered well. everyone who was never mothered at all. everyone who was never welcomed into this world with bright coos of warmth, everyone who didn’t know they were wanted here. you are wanted here. you are wanted here. you are wanted here. you are wanted here. you are wanted here. </333

this place in me is bleeding, god this wound is an open wound i am bleeding out and there’s no tourniquet no salve that can heal this rupture i don’t want to live like this forever alone everywhere i go silently bleeding out while everyone thinks i’m fine

away from home everywhere i go i have no permanent address no kin anywhere no one expecting me home for the holidays i am a stranger everywhere

where is the safe place where i can rest? where is that place does it exist?

all these experiences slip through my fingers like quicksand nothing is left nothing is left

if a tree falls in a forest does anyone hear it land? if no one’s around to see me grow did i really do anything at all? what is the point of living if no one’s there?

i just wanna bury my face in a worn-in cable-knit sweater the body heat underneath warming my cheeks