not

not

i looked at my bicep

and thought 

what a strange body this is

.

this skin feels too loose

spacious

.

i closed my eyes and looked into the depths of space time and thought, that must be home 

where all things that have died go 

.

i took my hair and brought it in front of me

and thought

this hair isn’t mine 

nor are these age lines 

.

i stared into the mirror

not really

i have yet to 

….

i stared into the mirror and felt pale

troubled

but the face staring back at me was not mine 

.

the thought never once crossed me 

‘what are we to do about tomorrow’

khat wanted a therapy session with both parents attending 

how are we gonna pull that off 

.

i was hoping for a reason to get out of it 

then the stomach starting splitting 

paining

bursting 

burning

.

and i had an idea 

it was evil

a very bad idea 

.

i’m not a bad person

.

.

.

i’m scared of talking to singlets

and dancing with cutlets

i’m scared of going too far

it’s hard to see in the dark, the deep- it’s too steep

.

i don’t know how to end this poem

i’m scared it’ll also end this moment 

and i love moments 

the good ones 

i don’t want this moment to end 

.

this moment of confessing 

and being 

i am a being of light

i’m not a bad person 

�"

Olive