she was afraid of making the space hers, because it never felt like there was room for her to be who she wanted. maybe it was the stares & laughs who chased her mind over the years, the ones who taunted her identity, or the silent tears after giving her all to the space just to be rejected of her place. it all felt too familial & others never understood the difficulty in just standing & being in front of others, even in under a minute, a meeting of eyes
could turn into cries for help with no real explanation but well-being in the worst of its kind. to think the thoughts of others that never existed, helped her to build the prison that no one else could see or be, except when she stripped naked in anguish. it was death who played in her head & trapped her brain, & filled her ears, telling her how to be, at the end of each day she wondered, 'How could that even be me?'