I am a fire. My mind is a storm in the rainforest. I am sandpaper and torn throats. I am rasping in the morning after sickness. I am that gut feeling /you shouldn't be here/. I am the girl with one pink and black shoe untied, laces dragging along uncaringly. I am the girl in a skull cutout Frankenstein shirt and overlarge white button down seeming like a doctors coat turned bird wings, flaring out so I can soar. I am the girl who looks high when she is not, who seems more normal than ever with a secondhand. I am eyes full of stars and galaxies and possibility, and a body full of none. I am skies trapped in a flesh suit, mermaid stuck in legged land form. I am that shelf you will never reach, because you stopped growing at 4'11" in seventh grade no matter how much you'll lie and say five foot, and I am the girl reaching. I am the flat beer in your hand, forgotten as you talk to a disappointment named 'your child' who doesn't see you just want to forget her, and I am that disappointment. I am the broken condom, broken diaphragm, useless pill, useless womb, that made this useless broken child possible, and I am this useless broken child. I am a moth slamming against a lamp, blood spattering as I try to reach what I cannot. I am pills swallowed at 3 am when hands shake and fear overwhelms and all you want is an escape. I am stardust and light and fear and black matter. I am lungs and heart and brain and organs indescribable. I am bones and soft tissue and chewed fingernails and bloody raw scalp from scratching. I am everything I will never be and nothing I am. I am a paradox, a box turned on only purpose to turn itself off, the "the next sentence is a lie. The first sentence is the truth". I am a black pearl when all you want is a white one. My name is disappointment, attention whore, anxiety, child, baby, little girl, slut, friend, sister, 'that one', 'why are you scared', and 'it's not that bad', but they call me Addrianna.
