Poems probably

23

it seemed like only yesterday i was a foot shorter and making promises with the same kids to always be friends. It seemed to be so recent to now that i lived in a different world than this.

and in the blink of an eye those same kids don't even look at me anymore. Everything is changing and I am too, but I never notice this change until my dad is showing me old photographs from when my hair was cut short and i wore those same old glasses. I picked them out because they looked a bit like my sisters at the time, and i can't help but notice i did the same for the two other pairs i got years later.

And I notice that she now looks a lot like i did then, and i look now like she did then.

And I can never remember seeing my stepmother so sad. She's sitting on the sofa in the living room and my dad comes up behind her quietly, not saying anything. Not doing anything. Just standing there like they're both trying to process some sort of unspoken grief i haven't been told about.

This happens while i'm standing at the counter. I'm cutting up some cheese and apples for myself and i would have saved some for my brother if i had not told him to leave me alone a few minutes ago after he started annoying me.

And I watch my sisters boyfriend walk up the stairs to refill her water bottle. We look at eachother, we say nothing, he goes back downstairs.

And now I look back down at my hands, mindlessly cutting through with the knife. I don't even know why, but before i even know it i'm crying.

It makes me feel like i'm a kid again. All of this.

I'd get home and stumble up to my room, lay flat on my face and cry my heart out. My mom would come in and ask "You're sad. Why?"

And I wouldn't have an answer.

I used to cry and not know why, but now i find i cry because i don't know why.

I know it's part of life to go through changes, and i'm probably going through the same thing that everyone else does, but i can't help but feel like this isn't how it's supposed to go.

I think back to dinner. I find it weird how one weird piece of chicken can stop my whole meal.

And now i'm back in my room. I put on my headphones to listen to guitar while my own is right in front of me, right under a painting of the same guitar right in front of me—held by myself.

It so weird how colours can look sometimes, but when painting you usually have to trust the process.

And I can't remember how i let this self-portrait look so blue.

And i'm back again to dinner. I'm not gonna cry. My stepmom is quoting a movie and talking a little too loud right next to me. My head is starting to hurt.

And i hate how i only get like this when i'm alone and there's nobody to ask me if i'm okay,

because it seems whenever someone asks me if i'm okay, i am.

My mother asks me if i'm okay a lot. She thinks she can read me very well, and i think she can't. But it's not important. She views me as a mini-her. But we don't have as much in common as she thinks we do.

She tells me she hopes i wont need to go on medication.

But I find myself in the doctors office again and i'm afraid, in this one and only way, i have become just like my mother.

And i don't know why i feel the need to put this on a website where both my closest friends and total strangers can see it, but i'm bad at being serious like this out loud and i think being serious like this might help me right now. I dont even know what im doing.

It seemed like only a few hours ago i was having the best time, outside with my brother and laughing though he was annoying me.

and i know that in a few more hours, when I wake up in the morning, i'll feel alright again and i'll forget i ever wrote this until the sun sets and i feel blue again. I just need to wait a little and bear through this next change.