I am gotten-up-one-too-many-times,
the epitome of no-one-loves-me, listening
to lectures about independence, trying to
find solace in nobody, learning the art of
pushing everyone away until I have no one,
you taught me that is how it is supposed to be.
Every other sentence you spit out is about
how much I’m going to miss you when you
are gone, but you never once taught me
how to miss anyone and I don’t know how
to hold onto anything other than bed sheets
in the middle of the night, clinging to
material things that don’t mean a thing
to so many, but symbolize a home to me.
I am lost and I am lonely, soaring through
galaxies of different places but never
knowing what a home is, snuggling inside
of yellow pills and doctor’s offices that
were never cozy, continuing searching
through school books and public bathrooms
where I’d tense my fingers and take pills
to sleep— I am wrecked and I am weary.
If you think of how much time you’ve spent
waiting as a waste, I could declare my life
in its entirety a waste of time and space,
because waiting for things to change is
worse than waiting for traffic to budge or
lines in the supermarket to hurry when
there is only one girl on register and changing
your life is not as easy as wanting it when
your parents are what is holding you back.
And I don’t know if there is a way to
unlearn that I am nothing but insignificant.