a poem on the inner workings of my chaotic mind

it isn't like i'm
lazy or anything it's just that
the thought of getting lost
in a crowd of ten or more people
makes me want to puke.

this is not just some
stupid little hang-up that you can
joke about when i'm
digging my fingernails into my palm so
hard that blood is drawn as we walk through
school hallways so packed that it feels
like we're suffocating from too much
oxygen but i just grit my teeth and
laugh "yeah, i know, i just don't like
being around people sometimes."

but you know,
there's just something about the way
my mother says "go out and have a life
and stop looking like the world
betrays you every day"
that makes my stomach drop
or when my dad looks at me and just
sighs, like they've finally realized
i was never good enough to be
their daughter.

and to everyone who believes that
i just need to relax,
to just calm down and think:
fuck you. fuck you for trying to pretend
like you know how it feels when my
bones grind together like broken
gears as i walk by people who may
or may not know me or why i'm always the loudest one
of my friends when we're alone or why i
have to read over my text messages four times before
i can make sure it's all acceptable to send.

fuck you,
because it's all
just to hide the fact that
i am absolutely terrified of what tomorrow
will bring and how i'm probably
burdening everyone around me with my
mere presence and how
i have to be perfect,
i have to focus on others' problems and
not my own, i have to forget that i'm
sad for no apparent reason, i have to
not panic when customers ask how my day is
going, i have to pretend that i don't
want to just close my eyes
and live like i'm dying.