[ poetry ]

[ multiple ]

i am more than one

one makes two make three

have i always been? i can't recall

one makes four makes five

i can't remember a lot of thing actually

one makes six makes seven

maybe my brain's just bad, and i broke it

one makes eight makes nine

but why am i never me?

one makes two makes three

i thought this could only come from hurt

from pain

that the parts of me that were not me 

were merely off-shoots of my agony

but they're not that to me. 

maybe my head stayed in the clouds too long

and i lost who i was on the ground

maybe i shoved all the parts of me that had personality

an attempt to please a god we call 'mom'

and it gained sentience. gained anger. gained hatred.

not just at her but at me for not fighting. 

for laying down like an old dog about to be put down.

or maybe i've just always been more than me

and only recently my brain has made us more separate

maybe its all of these

i'm so sick and tired of my plurality

just being seen as an extension of my trauma

because its not

i am traumatized, sure.

but i am more.

and we'll always be more

my brain gave me a family

one that could love and support me

and sure we're not 'blood family'

but the same blood runs in our shared body

and as long as they're here

i'll love us

i'll be more than me

i've always been more that me

i'll be more than one

because i am plenty

one makes fourty