Don't Bother Here

"Cheer up."
Shut up.

"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
And I add a frozen, photograph smile;
The kind that screams 'help'
In the eyes and
Practice in the lips.

I have no needles,
Diagnosis,
Tumors or death bed
To make people worry.
So "Cheer up!".
"Stop waking us up in the night with your crying."
Despair is only despair,
They say.
And there's no x-rays or
Concussions
So they know it can't be as serious as it
Really, truly is.

I was okay.
But it's back now,
And it's bigger,
And I hate it more than ever.
But I know it's really me.

Am I sure I'm not over reacting?
Are we sure we're not over reacting?
Am I over reacting?
Is it over reacting?


We all start
To fall out of line.
And if I just want
Attention?
Do I still deserve
Help then?
But
If someone
Wanted attention
So bad
That this is what happened
To them,
Maybe.
Synonyms.

People don't believe it because
I'm only how old.
Only
Small artistic reading
Snotty white girl.
This is the stuff of
Poor kids
Beat up in the locker
In New York City
With minimal English
And drunken parents
And six siblings to feed.

I WANTED to be BRILLIANT!
I WANTED to be ME!
I WANTED to ABSOLUTELY PERFECT DREAM!
Busy...
Signal...
Crosswalk...
Do Not Cross.

Aesthetic.