surely not

am i people? am i a person?

im sure im not a people-person

they know what to say, how to breathe, when to smile

im missing all of that, by a mile

elegy to the cramping of style

the basement bathroom smells like vomit and vanilla

chairs scoot and students shuffle above my head

the basement bathroom has a broken lock on the door 

custodians missed a splotch of blood on the tiles

the body shakes and shivers, bile empty and bleeding

i clutch my stomach i cry and i hunch

my wrists and thighs itch for sharp touch

a cruel mimicry of anothers experience 

how i function in this academic pestilence

who taught me this? 

how to love-hate-hurt and pull myself apart

was i always going to become

were there signs? where were they? 

i do keep my eyes peeled, you know

im superstitious and paranoid

and every day at eleven eleven,

ill knock on my skull and hope 

so where is it? the proof ill change

theres none that i see

these tiles are all the same

repeating patterns 

repeating battery 

upon the bare floor i scratch, 

seeking something below to explain

who am i, without my writhing in pain?

obsesssssive

obsessive starts lead to boring ends

incessant blurts of information 

shivers up skin at response 

what are you doing this for?

dopamine crescendo gets you high

the complete lack gets you crushed by

over infatuated 

un recompensated 

cruised through words 

the downing of birds

its cute in a way

on the dirty curb

until you do not speak 

lips meet smoke 

and his chest beats weak

you hope for more and pitter patter hearts

yearn and groan for butchering of parts

teeth meet pavement 

hand meets ass

thick skin 

is it worth breakin?