Xanadu
 

There you are, Standing in the kitchen. While the warm stench of dinner, lingers in every corner of the apartment. Toys scattered all over the floor. TV shouting laughter and cartoons. You tell me to go clean my room. But I am not done playing make believe. I am not done recording my barbie dolls, as their plastic smiles star in my little world. I am not done hiding in the tent with my brother, where the only sound in the room is our heartbeats. Shushing each other and laughi

The glass is stuck. Encapsulated by calloused skin, unsure if it is still in. But with every stinging step  it’s confirmed. The tweezers urging it to leave. The shard grasping to stay. It prays, pleads, and persuades. The cold metal tries but the translucent piece won't go. There is no telling if it is still there unless you take another possibly  painful step. I could never understand why it would want to stay  if it was being begged to leave.

Face stained with confusion. Comprehension becomes routine. Being overwhelmed provides comfort. Moments of silence instil worry as rest feels unnatural. Undescribably dystopian. Why can’t  you take a break? I exist on my fingertips swiftly jabbing each key. I exist in the crease of my hand forming a tight knot, my pencil tightly gripped. I exist brooding at red markings of my mistakes. My existence is tension filled. I am where there  is no room to breathe. Fuelling me in an

Pointless. Irrelevant. The words bubbling in my mind, trapped with no escape. I scratch and scratch against the paper. The faint gray lines smudging under the empty tip. My ideas—vibrant, animated, expressive—each desperate stroke, a silent plea for help. Frustration builds as I scrape at the empty page, graphite crumbling like my patience. The dark powder coating my stained fingers, smudging along the page. Maybe the emptiness is the story. The nothingness is all I have left

To pertain to, Appropriate for another To be unique yet not a bother Knowing your place today  Begins with unknowing your pride To be the property of, Existing for the sake of another  The concept of god: human idolization, a vice, a lover  Teetering on the line of purpose and encapturement  To be desired,  Getting lucky to find another Warming the ice around my four-leaved clover  Sired to the sense of value Celibate to being alone yet still lonely internally  Replace anothe

I belong in the silence between utterances where my name rests and no one dares to reach for it. a spirit once whispered, you are worth so much but not more than the person next to you. their truths fell like gentle rain upon my shoulder, an anchoring and liberating sentiment. I belong in the little things: a door held open, a quiet companionship, laughter at an inopportune time. I need not glow by myself. were one big galaxy, not brighter nor dimmer, just stars who have come

The air is thick with a sweet metallic scent. Smoky fumes and gunpowder redden the whites of my eyes. A soldier lies in the dirt before me. Broken bones bore through his bruised flesh. An image I've seen countless times before. My teeth grind together like a mortar and pestle tearing holes in my bottom lip. My calloused hands form fists at my sides as my uniform which once stood for nationalism now stinks of dishonor. Day after day I watch as I aid in destruction and devastat

Beginning. Once again  In wild delirium Boundless Incorruptible, unscorchable. Contagious outbursts of Unloosed hysteria. Tangible palpable solid  Adrenaline Pumping to heartbeats. Steady rhythm growing louder  And louder until I take root Above. Loud, bubbling Euphoria Coursing through my blood. Conceived from deep inside my gut Continually strobing, Reappearing in my chest  And exiting in an unyielding breath of musical laughter. Stress—it ended with squeezing,  Straining,

All my emotions are put up for entertainment. All the happy, frightened, smiles and the ugly all accessible for the whole world. All my pretend is real. My clothes are picked out for the character, but they are still itchy on my pale delicate skin. I do this to make people feel something out of my  own feelings. I open my arms and volunteer my affection and sanity to put on a good show for you and mostly so you keep watching. I pull down my eyelids until they swell up and my

During second period Chemistry, the room should have been a quiet reaction vessel–stable, controlled and ready for learning. Instead, constant side conversations bubbled around me like unwanted by-products of a messy reaction. While my teacher explains how activation energy determines whether a reaction proceeds, the whispers beside me rose in volume, disrupting my concentration like impurities destabilizing a perfect solution. I tried to focus on the periodic trends she char