I've been thinking about who would show up at my funeral.
My family, my boyfriend, would my friends?
I think they'd show up to keep up appearances.
But would they mourn?
I worry most are just tolerating me.

I've been thinking about how easy it is to lose people.
Last month I cried until the space around me filled with tears and drowned those closest.

I've been thinking about how tired I am.
My soul is fatigued.
I'm tired.
Emotionally, mentally, and socially
I’m tired of holding up relationships,
I’m tired of begging for love,
I’m tired of this rage.

I've been thinking about love.
Love makes life more beautiful.
Love blossoms through my fingertips like a rose on a thorny stem.
Love is my lifeline.

I've been thinking about my boyfriend.
He's cute.

I've been thinking about that cute guy in front of me
I know never to talk to him.
Talking to him would ruin the facade.
Right now he's a tall skinny skater boy twink,
He won't be after he opens his mouth.

I've been thinking about guilt.
My love says I should feel more of it,
More empathy,
He says that I shouldn't take “evil mastermind” as a compliment.
When so many people push you to that level, how are you supposed to react?
I tried to be good, I tried to be better,
It only did me worse.

I've been thinking about fourth grade.
The most dramatic year of my life was when I was 10.
Nothing is more terrifying than a preteen girl.
The girls chased boys, and then got yelled at for it,
The girls had a “club”, they kicked me and the “fat kid” out
The girls made me feel truly alone for the first time in my life.
That feeling has never left.

I've been thinking about Miles Morales.
“Nah, I’m gonna do my own thing.”
I want to do my own thing,
but there's all these buts.
“Once I’m on my own,”
I tell myself,
What if I never stop finding excuses?

I've been thinking about stray dogs
The sight of them fills me with dread as I remember how I felt when my dog ran away.
Someone out there is feeling the same,
And yet these dogs grin as they run free.
Do I rescue them?
I could get them in my car, and take them home to my parents.
They would scold me as they hesitantly helped me find the owner.
I could leave them, someone might help.
Or no one will.
And how do I know the past owner wasn't shit.
Maybe I’m the last one to see the dogs…
But the dogs are so happy,
All they want is freedom.
And yet we hold them for our own anguish.

I've been thinking about sexuality and gender.
Why does everyone care so much?
It doesn't matter.
In the end we're all just searching for the same thing,
To belong-
To belong to ourselves.
To belong to others.

I've been thinking about the mask I put up.
I’m tired of being a bitch.
But I’m tired of putting in the effort.
My world consists of dancing in the rain, walking alone in the middle of a road, and poetry,
They think my world consists of rage.
They believe my fists pound the walls around me,
Maybe they do.
They believe my words bite the hands that feed me,
Maybe they do.
They believe i am incapable of showing the love a child needs,
I know I’m capable.

I’ve been thinking about morality.
What quantifies a good person?
Is being good sitting on a step talking to a kid you just met?
She was crying because she felt bad she didn't want to go into the tight cave, but her parents did.
The thought that you've disappointed your parents should never haunt a 10 year old.
Is being good loving the boy despite his tendency to wound?
His words bit into everyone around me, now he says i'm the bad person.
He hurt my sunshine.
Is being good making sure everyone else feels loved?
They might lose themselves without love.
I understand what it's like to be lost and unwanted.
Or do the bad deeds out do the good?