sat by the ocean

ignore

I don't know how to be a person
inside me are seas of emotions,
waves turbulent and strong enough to knock a grown man to his knees
I'm worried no one sees through my face,
which is stoic and pale in its complexion,
unmoved and untaught by time—
time spent unlearning what I'd known how to do from birth
what I'd soon learned was unacceptable

I don't know how to be a person
I'm still learning and unlearning
breaking and binding and killing and raising
you don't see so much of it
because I'm so, so afraid
that I don't even process its being there
but I know it's there—
watching
waiting
it wants its time in the spotlight
but I'm already so much
and I've given you so much of too-much myself
what if it's the straw that breaks the camel's back?
the raindrop that breaks the spider's web?

I don't know if I could handle that
and still feel alive after.
I'm already so damaged.
and yet, so desperately in love.

desperation.
the desperation for touch
and for peace
and for worship.
I was a god,
and then I died
and when I came back,
it was like nobody had even mourned my death.
and when I spoke out about it,
they recoiled and told me it'd been walking on eggshells
just to not get their heads bitten off
by this horrible beast that was and is me
they curled up their lips I'm disgust that I hadn't noticed
how careful they had all been with me,
how horrible it'd been to have to cradle me gently and rock me from side to side
how awful it'd been to be so painfully nice to me,
just so that I wouldn't burst into tears and embarrass them
they made sure I knew
that every moment I asked for their patience
was absolute torture on them
was cruel of me
was terrible of me

and so,
when I'm with you,
although I've healed a little, I still am careful

I don't want to talk about myself anymore
because I don't think you care anymore.
it has to have gotten old by now, right?
hearing me lament my struggles
night after night
and wondering if I'm really doing okay
wondering if I'm faking it all

some of the deepest guilts in my mind still reside there
my mother felt I had abandoned her once
I read about it
and now I am guilty for all I have done
that I don't even remember

but I don't ask questions about my physical self anymore
she's mean
and tries to project her own insecurities onto me to keep me safe
because I'm a laughable embarrassment to her

failing grades
bad attitudes
trying to teach her how to parent
asking too many dumb questions
it's no wonder she yells at me
gets frustrated at me
is disappointed with me
and yet,
she loves me
but I fear it is out of obligation.

she gaslights me too
did I ever tell you that?
she says one thing then calls me crazy for bringing it back up
maybe that's why I think I have memory problems
why I feel like I'm losing my mind
like I want to cry when I remember how good I used to be

but my mind was all I had
because no one would love me if I wasn't special

maybe that's why I have such a sick drive towards it now