Letters from sixteen

From the in between

Poems written in the inbetween of being better and being not.

Better but not quite
In my current situation, I find myself feeling in between.
In between the sun and the moon,
In between being whole and broken into thirteen pieces.
In between crying past midnight and having moments full of peace.
In between the life I don't want to be part of and the one I want to live.

The hippie life
For much of my life i have wanted to be a hippie,
It seemed like such a happy life.
So I will write poetry in the light of sunrise,
So I will dress in tie dye and crystal necklaces.
So I will make beaded jewelry and read books about woodstock,
So I will live this life in the way I wish to.

The cage
I spent a lot of time barely above water before anyone recognized it, years of my childhood actually, just barely catching my breath before being submerged again.
When they finally saw the fact that I was clinging on to the top of my cage, when they finally recognized that the water was too high for me to survive in, I was intensely relieved in a way I cannot explain.
The water drained out of my cage, just enough for me to stand in, just enough to make it livable. I accepted this, I accepted life in the cage long ago. What's a little water?
I told them about the horrors of the water, but I never told them why the water was there. I'd spent many nights hands gripped to bars at the top of the cage that I'd almost forgotten the possibility of not being in one.
They told me about the cage they thought I was in, labeled me, then treated me, yet I stayed in the water.
Years passed.
I remember one night the water almost took me, this had happened before, but this time was different, I wasn't scared to die, it brought me peace, and I'd never been closer to giving up then in that moment.
I'd spent years locked away, I never saw any other way. I never thought I'd let the water out.
A dozen or so hours later something in me changed, staying here, captive, was not only a life wasted but a life ruined, this truth grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me.
Soon I was shaking the bars, banging, screaming with the power of every night spent drowning behind me. I belted the truth as loud as I could until they couldn't do anything but hear me.
The water drained.
The cage opened.
The truth was finally more than an ache in my chest.

Lost but not gone
He took so much away from me, so much I thought I'd never get back, but what has been lost is not gone.
He ripped away much of my childhood,
I can watch cartoons and buy toys from the thrift shop to make up for lost time.
He took away my sense of home,
And that doesn't stand taller than my blanket fort.
He dampered my sense of happiness,
But that won't stop my days spent in the sun.