#almostpoetry

Sa Kabilang Kwarto.

You’re not allowed to take photos.

Are any of you afraid?

That was not a joke.

passing by, smiling “Good afternoon, Sir!” “Hello, Ma’am!” “Where are you from?”

someone walks out a cubicle the same clothes to put on all similar yet all different some smiling, staring wondering

the lights are dim the weather cold How are they doing?

passing by, smiling “Hello, Ma’am!” “Hello, Sir!” Christmas songs the sound of coins words of thanks faces of joy

a gaze from a distance a look into my eyes “You remind me of my daughter.” tears welling up and then she cried her hand holding mine still looking, still staring “She’s the same height as you.” “Her hair is just as long as yours.”

“I miss her so much.”

What does that even mean

I have lost too many parts of me

To remember what complete feels

To stand in front of another living

breathing

human being

And think I deserve to be just as alive

just as true

just as uncaring

I am still battling shadows at 1:56

I tell myself Maybe weight on my body Will keep me from the weight in my mind So I put a pillow on me And another one Tried sleeping face down Tossed, turned, flipped Nothing is enough

I cry

Maybe if I cry hard enough I'll tire myself to sleep My tears have run dry Yet my heart remains relentless Maybe if I don't sleep I'll feel very sick in a while Then it'll be okay if I don't face another day Then I don't have to make up excuses Because truly I am unwell

Choked Shrunk Beaten Look, you can see

Maybe if they see sick They won't ask any more questions I don't need to talk about my pains I can take a break for free And I won't need to explain

too wrong, too right too loose, too tight too wild, too plain too old, too young

the world I grew up in was quite unforgiving it took pride in pointing out the flaws humans make... have not necessarily bad decisions or deliberately hurtful actions but flaws and mistakes errors you never wanted to make flaws you never thought were flaws in the first place

how we ate, stood, sat laughed, cried, celebrated felt walked, talked, stayed silent

my lapses felt like sins and it's been hard to forgive myself for being human

I'm not sure when or how it started

but the world I grew up with was unforgiving I became my own worst critic dumping myself with bad reviews like some mass-produced product sold online shipping took too long seller was not accommodating poor quality if only it was a little bit more of this much

I want to convince myself I'm not so bad I need to convince myself I'm not so bad I am not fresh out of a factory meant to please hundreds or thousands

I am meant to breathe be kind to love, to care to hope, to wish to dream, despair to reach, to grieve to make, to break fall and rise neither too much nor too little just is, am, will be

I want to believe the good people see in me how deeply I cared and how that's beautiful how I'm strong, capable, enough how I'm there, here I want to see that and embrace it and say "Hey, you were there all this time. I know. I love me, too."

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