i fall asleep, maybe when i wake up i’ll feel different 
i wake up at 6 tired, maybe this life isn’t for me 
i roll out of bed at 630 
i drag myself to and fro
from the closet
to the mirror 
back to the closet
i cast aside each article of clothing as they fail 
to turn my torso into an hourglass 
make my ass so fat all the home boys want to hit it 
i tug and pull the clothing around my figure 
each shift of fabric reminds me that 
perhaps it will take more than something pretty
to make me someone pretty. 
my hands wade through the waves of my hair 
frantic, i gaze at the clock
715 
time keeps flying past 
The anxiety that was sleeping in chest 
Has awoken in full throttle 
A raging storm, lighting piercing my stomach
My knees are weak
As i shrug into my clothing and gaze 
Too long in the mirror 

No way for anyone to look in,
to tell if it was light or dark inside.
No way to tell if things were quiet and still,
or if the house was about to explode.

If one wanted to see inside, they could,
but only if they had a key.
And that key, of course,
came from the owner.

And she was picky,
some would say too picky.
But why would anyone allow someone inside their house?
When they feared what those someones would think of it.

Those who were allowed inside may still have been tricked,
by the decoration adorning the house.
Lovely furniture disguised the warped floors,
and beautiful paintings covered deep cracks in its walls.

It was an old and tired house.
It had stood through many storms,
survived floods and earthquakes,
but that didn’t matter if it didn’t look nice.

And that’s all the visitors seemed to notice,
the pretty things,

I watch 
As the sunlight dips 
Behind the greenish-gold mountains.
And I try to ignore the
Responsibilities tugging 
In the back of my mind

I am hypnotized by the roof of my garage,
But I am not looking at it.
I am staring at it without a meaning.

I am not looking at the roof
I am just resting my eyes
On a not-too-bright
Mesmerizing 
Surface
With a bountiful amount of bumps.

I am thinking.

When I think,
Deep thoughts
Like what happens when I die,
Or what will happen, 
When the sun explodes
It is best no to bother me.

I will not listen.
Because I am drowning in my mind.
Please do not save me.

I watch as the 
Darkness creeps over the garage.
It is not a bad darkness,
But a reminder kind of darkness.
A go-inside-it’s-getting-dark type of darkness.

City floating in the black inky sky,
I see you as I fly by. 
Each light adds to the galaxy 
Of stories and lives. 
I imagine jumping into
The darkness forever falling up
Into the night sky reflected below. 
Maybe its an ocean with 
Strange creatures busy flowing
With the undertow. 
Im a space traveler observing without
Really seeing,
But I can still feel each being. 
Pockets of life shown by lights. 
Teeming night do you see me add
To your sky as you add to mine?
Awe inspiring spread out
Like beautiful coral,
Or a crack in the earth 
With shining stardust showing through. 
I want to reach out and dip my
Fingers into the land. 
Touching each light. 
We cannot be only a blight. 
There is a peace to the chaos as you
Watch from afar. 
It used to be a miracle to see the world
From the sky, 
Beauty tends to be lost on us after

the first time i felt unsafe in school
was because someone vandalized my homework.
it was crudely scratched and hasty,
but a deliberate "asian" across my math.
i didn't want to go back,
but i did.

the second time i felt unsafe in school
was Sandy Hook.
all i could think about was children
screaming and crying
wanting to know what was happening
and why it was.
i thought of how they wanted their parents
or didn't understand why people were screaming.
i didn't want to go back,
but i did.

i still didnt understand the weight of it
until february 14th 2018.
i had a new water bottle,
new socks,
and a package of mints i opened that morning.
i remember the cute red and pink heart plastered bag
my mom proudly presented to me.

i remember the headlines.
high schoolers,
like me,
shot dead fleeing.
Stoneman Douglas High students,
dead.