To Who I Am

A lonely game

Lonely is the name of the game.
If you chose it,
You better play by the rules.
It's a dangerous way.
Loneliness.
Is seen as discarded crayons not fitting into a color scheme.
Or homeless people wrecked from an hour of impossible hoping.
Or maybe it's the first rain drop to conceive a puddle.
Lonely is knowing another person will never be appealed to you.
A lack of a liking.
Simple to understand?
For now you'll be the last planet out of orbit.
And in this game,
the bottle will never spin in your corner.
Extra tip? The person who makes eyes at you across the room, probably sees the food table first.
So the way is simple, the objective quite difficult.
Loneliness takes a different role.
Almost one as a distant cave secluded from land.
It hangs like an umbrellas shadow
eclipsing not just rain but the hands of people reaching out to make contact.
Don't touch.
Just watch.
You are alone in it this time.
It's just a little fun, you'll learn to play.
It's a corner you see,
in a corner you'll be.
I'll show you.
Your hands will only exaggerate the wall to the worlds open eyes.
Now see if you can stretch your arms far enough to make all the little things look big.
The party go-ers are the last to come but you are the first to leave.
Isn't that the way it looks from this vantage point?
And make sure there is enough growing space to plant your seeds.
Flowers might bloom very soon.
Loneliness will have its way to delegate here.
This is how it gets into your stems, arching out into you leave, dropping despair in your blossoms.
All through manipulation.
You see the world through binoculars with clipped lenses--
Cropping out people who get close to you.
In this position, the party girls and party boys will only put shoulders on your wall for a quick ounce of support
They won't see your possessive posture, the way you try to flip your hair
or narrow your body to a slim state of "I'm not here."
The boys and girls are unphased by the way you are suspended in a time capsule that only ever shows the future and not the past.
They don't see or feel like you do.
But instead your world is a smudgy pair of glasses and it's uncertain if the lenses were ever clean.
You say it's no longer a problem because how could something so consistent ever become bothersome?
Yet toilet paper is less forgotten than you.
And if you think your paper thin, nice try.
You become a conglomerate to ideas that fork their way into your spindly thoughts.
Clinging onto the idea
Oh yeah, soon they'll be coming for me,
swarming me.
And if not then so will your hatred turn on them
Your disposition scorching holes into their oblivious backs
Because they walk in a way you could never.
A stride, really.
One exuding hubris
A demeanor of credibility.
You are the one who lacks
The one who tastes all the sour before the sweet.
And if you begin to think this lonely corner was made for more than you,
You know you're wrong.
It only accommodates one.
So I think
You've found your place here.
Yet your wall isn't the only shelter you have sought out.
On street sides you will follow something lesser than the pedestrian tide.
In closets you are hung up far in the back, reaching out to be seen by the sun.
Or in fact just the eyes of your perpetrator.
In picture frames,
You won't make it on the desk.
Because you were forgotten before the photo was even taken.
Loneliness is a key to a strange little realm.
And in this realm
Little girls do not wear pig tails
Even your hair can't come in pairs.
And little boys do not play race cars
Because what person would remember a driver whose hands never really touched the wheel?
Forgotten kids are rotten kids,
they say.
Yet they never saw you fix up those speedy cars.
Or tie your hair back so you could face the world with a little more gusto.
They didn't see you
take a sledge hammer to your walls
And then put it on the shelf when your bullies came back to town.
You, lonely one--
Street wanderer
Late night ponderer,
You saw sky lines before you saw the ground.
And you did not let your fears take you down.
Your walls held onto you protectively
Dieting your person into a state of mind too small for possibility.
Yes, you were forgotten.
But no, you were not still.
Still required the kind of patience you never found in yourself.
So take onto the world
What may have been lost.
The ability to be seen.
And not seen pouring wine at a cheap café,
But perhaps being the one to drink it like five star gourmet.
Now I say cheers to your fears
Maybe you couldn't blow your walls to smithereens,
But at least you could stay far enough away
for another round.
So that for this time, the game is not one of defeat.

-s.l

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Lol started recognizing some patterns in this poem, hope not to repetitive for YALL! Stick with me I am an emotional "disaster" ridden teen 😂 also I started changing my titles without caps, I feel people are easily appealed by that because it looks less ominous and more relatable. what do u think?