Take it or Leave It

So apparently
I am a disappointment.
To my family,
obviously. To my friends?
What friends. But Mrs. Joyce
was just talking to me
the tone of voice that she
had used with me,
the way her eyes pierced mine,
I just couldn’t take it.
It was like when you started to cry
after I showed you my leg,
the small lines displaying
how hurt I really was.
I never expected it from her though;
I mean she doesn’t even know me
as well some of my other teachers.
Maybe I was wrong about her,
maybe all of the stories
I wrote in power of the pen
didn’t just pass through her,
maybe she actually read them,
unlike Mr. Kowalski,
maybe she saw what others didn’t.
It’s a comforting thought
but a painful one all at the same time.
This is what I wanted after all,
for someone to notice me,
to realize that I wasn’t like
every one else in this hell hole.
But at the same time
I am only faced with another person,
another set of eyes to see
what I am doing to myself
shake their head. Give me
that look that I loath
yet desire. I only wish
I could take it, take what
I want without wanting more,
of a different caliber.
Here’s the gun,
here are the bullets,
now shoot yourself in the foot.
“But I wanted an automatic” I whine.


And then there is you.
Yeah, I still go there.
Those texts I get
just make me want more,
a taste of what you have
before you pull the plate away,
denying me my fill.
But who can blame you.
It’s better than nothing at all.
At least I am not starving any more,
at least you have observed
what I have been telling you for years.
At least you are real again,
not just a phantom of a memory
from long ago that I wish to hold on to,
like I keep that blanket in my closet.
You are a source of comfort,
a star when it is cloudy.
Its funny, like I said before,
I cant take what I ask for,
I only want more.
I wanted you to notice me,
to give me more attention
than you did before, and you are.
But I still long to see you more often,
to talk, smoke, drink. Anything
to give us a reason to be together. Anything
to give me an excuse to look at your face,
star at your eyes,
trace the many scars