I wrote this in 2012. I'm stronger now. I'm myself now. But I still like it. It's a part of my story.
No Name
I am a honeysuckle string of broken down ships.
I am a time stamp that expired.
I am a discount card in your left pocket,
Worthless but for the purpose you give to it.
I am a shelf-hiding child below covers in fear.
I am a darkness, a scathing horse that tramples
Anything that is good about me.
I am a being, a soul--human
I am fingernails and odds and ends put together
Like so much messy consciousness.
I am a water cracked remnant.
I am sad.
I am stronger than I realize.
I can talk things out, be honest, feel.
I can hide myself tactfully to my own very dear detriment.
I can sense an emotion from across a room,
One soul speaking to the other.
I can feel alone, calm a panic attack, cry out.
I can take care, I can continue to beat when my whole world feels like ending.
I am a fair-skinned-freckled-brown-eyed-girl.
I am a listener to the same melancholy song.
I am a daffodil lover, a strange monstrous raven.
A force, a life, a momentous glance at something that already faded.
I am a quick wrinkled piece of silk. A threaded together falling apart
