I Was Once a Sunflower

Inconsequential

Sometimes the wind blows through
My paper bag skin.
Sometimes I am nothing but a skeleton.
I look at my fingers, frail and toothpick thin.
Emptiness has never felt so heavy.
I'm the person who will flip
A penny heads up, so that the person
After me will have good luck.
My friends do not know my middle name.
My TV remote clicks off my
LED lights somehow, and I cry.
In the darkness, my tears are invisible.
I pretend I cannot feel them slide down
My worn face.
A face I have not scrubbed in days because looking in a mirror is too painful.
If I stay still, I won't hurt anymore.
If I don't move, I cannot hurt myself.
If I don't breathe at all, the panic won't settle too deep into my ribcage
and my lungs will not seize.
My daily affirmation used to be kind,
I used to be gentle to my body.
But 7 years of black sharpie ink later,
It is hard not to want to give in.
Painted my walls yellow because
I wanted the happiness to sink into
My brain, my life.
I still sit in tattered grey sweatpants
And wake up in the morning wishing
For all the world
That my eyes could close.
Funny how the future disappears sometimes.
How when someone says "What are you doing next weekend?"
My mind goes blank and fuzzy, a camera out of focus, because "Next weekend? I can't even see tomorrow."
I am hopeless.
I will always have hope for you,
He said.
See me.
Someone see me.
Someone actually look at me.
Someone please remember my middle name.
Being the friend who knows so much about everyone, who never forgets their favorite color or birthday or what they like on their ice cream,
It is tiring, because sometimes I just want someone to show up to hang out with me and walk in with one medium Dunkin caramel iced coffee with cream and liquid sugar.
I want to be remembered.
I am no one's favorite, no one's best, and it is hard
Because at this point in the world, I
Am simply
Inconsequential.