locked in my room 

afraid and alone,

at the tender of six

I learned I was on my own. 

my thirteenth year alive 

reinforced that belief—

dropped off at home 

after a suicidal debrief. 

by high school I learned 

emotions made me too much, 

so alcohol and drugs 

became my crutch.  

by college I learned to vanish

behind the perfect mask—

smiling like nothing’s wrong

so no one thought to ask.

but my body kept the score

and my spirit grew so, so tired.

I burned through people

just to feel desired.

a mirror of pain

in every face I’d see,

always searching for someone

who would finally choose me.

but I’ve learned how to hold

my own shaky hands,

and how to build a home

from the ashes and sand.