" I don’t fit into any stereotypes. And I like myself that way. "

I never thought I would feel
the feelings of not being
inside of myself.
There are times I am a planet,
so far in the distance: unreachable.
Sometimes I am a mountain,
tall, over bearing, way up high.
I look down and have perspective.
I see what I ought.
But others I am a speck.
So tiny, almost nonexistent.
I watch the storm as if
I am not inside.
The winds brew and subside.
Again, yet again.
I am here and then I go.
Fading in and out.
Again and again.
This I know.

But I will never get tired
of telling myself that it is not me.
I am not this girl, not this human.
This is not my life.
How could it be?
I am watching from a distance,
while this poor girl’s walls
fall, yet again.
And are rebuilt.
Again and again.
I tell myself, how lucky I am
to have my life in order.
I grasp firmly to the reality
I have created.
The person I thought
it would be better to be.
Hard: safe.
Impenetrable: safer.

Strong, sturdy and damp.
Cold and harsh.
No one will get in.
These walls hold true
to their purpose.
Sometimes I have to remind myself,
that it is me that they serve.
I know what it was to be weak.
Vulnerability is an old vice.
Now, I am different
I am running away.
I have painted over myself
with deep shades of blue.
Dark, mesmerizing, vast, and scary.
I am the waves meant
to keep people at bay.
And I do.

I see sparks
of my former self at times.
Embers of something within.
And I douse them.
It’s a fire that I do not want started.
This person I have crafted
can not to be burned
to the ground.
I house what was myself,
within a stronger version
of a self I wanted to be.
What took years to create,
can be taken down in an instant.
I can not take that chance.

I may not be who I was,
but i am not entirely
who I seem to be.
That, I do know.
I am everything and nothing
all at once.
I get lost in all the noise.
I find pieces of myself everywhere.
I pick them up
and I carry them with me.
Objects of identification.
Talismans of what it means.
To be this body.
To be this flesh.

In the hopes,
that some day soon,
these pieces will be enough.
To connect the dots
of a real person.
To make me stay here,
in the now.
I will watch the storms come and go,
but one day, I will not falter.
I will stay.
I will say, “I am here.”
And I refuse
To disappear.