i matter.
My back aches as I board the bus, my bag weighing heavy with the mark left on my paper that I know my mother will scorn me for. She would be home by now, cooking a meal or tidying an already spotless counter, expecting me to arrive at any moment.
Instead, I get off the bus several stops too early, before the road diverges and takes me home. My friends wave me off, somewhat confused but not enough so to question why.
Around a bend, down an alleyway and up the stairs, there exists a perfect peaceful universe- a dance studio with ever-empty rooms and a manager who allows me to use said rooms for no charge as long as no one else asks to hire them. On the particularly hard days, this is my refuge, my haven from what lies outside.
My school bag is discarded outside the studio lest it serve as a reminder of what I am trying to escape from. The only necessary items are my phone, and a change of clothes which I am soon wearing, with my school uniform roughly shoved into my bag. I spare a brief moment to wave to the manager, alerting her to my presence – she responds with merely a nod and a smile – and quickly retreat into the spare corner room which I have now claimed as my own.
An old sound system is used in this room, one which I once struggled to operate but can now navigate with ease. Music erupts from the speakers, cascading across the room and embracing me with a warm sensation of ease and familiarity that comforts me instantly.
It is as if the music is not in my head but my veins, my muscles, my bones. My body moves of its own accord, matching the beat perfectly, hitting all the right notes.
For the mark on my paper that I worked tirelessly to perfect that tells me I don’t matter.
As the music builds, so do I, my moves exploding with some energy I didn’t know I still possessed.
For my mother, who will see that mark and throw it back in my face and tell me I don’t matter.
I explode across the room in leaps and bounds, and, at least inside my head, it looks elegant and graceful and beautiful.
For the words that follow me in the hallway that say I’m strange or broken and tell me I don’t matter.
The music abruptly softens as the song transitions to the bridge in preparation for the final build up. I pause then, my chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. My reflection stares back at me accusingly.
For the cruel being I see whenever I peer into a mirror who laughs at my failures and cackles at my insecurities and tells me I don’t matter.
The final chorus erupts across the speaker, and I dance until my head spins, until the room spins, until the entire planet spins off its axis. In the final bar, my ankle gives out, and my shoulder collides with the floor. Sharp pain fires through my entire body.
For the ache in my muscles- in my arms, in my legs, in my back- that tells me I am alive, and as long as I am alive, as long as I exist, I matter.
the boy and his universe.
The boy and his sky
During the day when the sky was blue
And the sun shone brightly over a sleepless world
The boy looked up towards the heavens
With his feet firmly planted on the Earth
And he wondered
Just how much nothing
Existed beyond this planet
The boy and his stars
At night, after stars have appeared
Infinite pin-pricks in the thick black of the sky
The boy watched the blinking lights
Laying sprawled across the grass (in his yard)
And he decided
That he would be the one to discover
The nothing that existed beyond Earth
The boy and his invention
Through day and night
Sun setting to unveil stars
The boy worked tirelessly
To create something that would let him see
And he invented
A strange and brilliant thing
That had never existed before
The boy and his telescope
After months of creating, inventing, building
On a night with no clouds to block the stars
The boy positioned his telescope
So it pointed to the unobstructed view of the heavens
And he looked
Up at the infinite black sky
Expecting to find nothing
The boy and his universe
But instead of finding nothing
But an eternal dark sea of sky
The boy discovered stars and planets and galaxies
Billions more pin-pricking the black
And he claimed
These stars and planets and galaxies for himself-
His own personal universe that Earth knew nothing of
when it rains
do not wish for it to stop-
how else would the plants grow?
we always forget to water them
when all the clouds have fled the sky
leave room for the sun to shine-
how else would the plants grow?
the sun is how they make food
so
let your tears fall like the rain outside
the plants will flourish
and the animals will drink
and tomorrow the sun will come out
to love a girl.
her lips are soft as they brush against my ear
her voice dripping thick with honey
whispering sweet nothings
that taste so sickeningly sweet
her fingers are fire
setting my entire being alight
as she drags her freahly manacured nails
up and down my spine
and i get high on the fantasy
breath it, inhale it, live it
aching to know what it feels like
to love a girl
#poetry #toloveagirl #love #secrets