Inventory

I am...

I am fifteen years, one month, and six days old.

I live in a nothing that is personified in everything.
I am short, but that's alright.
And self-content should count.
I have been called a fool;
more often I have been made one.

My hair frustrates me,
as does the rest of me;
they tell me I'm lovely, so maybe I am.
He made me love my smile,
but now it is unused.
He copyrighted it, so I haven't he permission anymore.

I adore spaghetti,
and bread.
I especially love them together.
I do not tolerate most vegetables
though I revel in the good ones.
Strawberries and Doctor Pepper make me happy,
but so do little white headache pills.
I hate when foods touch, but it's all going the same place.

I hate scratchy sweaters
and believe in the power of an understanding hug.
Rain is God's true gift,
and if ever He loved us, that was how he showed it.
It makes the world new.
I like the colour green,
but everything here is brown.
I hate that I spell colour with a U.
It makes me miss him.
I like people who can keep sarcastic conversation.
I like when I say things that matter.
I like people watching.
I like people who smile
and mean it.
I like stripes
and polka dots
and shapes.
I like freckles and scars that tell stories
and laying on my stomach in the grass.
I like the smell of fresh cut grass.
I like cold showers in the summer time.
I like feeling close to something.
I burn everything I cook,
and I break everything I touch.
Silence terrifies me
so I drown myself in sounds of voices and music.
I like messy rooms
and people with personality
and secrets.
I like cold water after I brush my teeth.
The smell of laundry makes me feel small, but safe.

My mom is critical
and sometimes, I think, bitter.
She holds onto things
and slings them back.
My dad is understanding,
I can tell him about acting
and rain.
He gets it.
Gage is different,
and I worry that he makes dumb decisions.
He's going to be something someday;
that excites me.
Taylor is my best friend,
and I cling to her in my darkest moments.
She is my forever,
no matter what anybody says.
I love her.
Breanne is one of my favourite people
because she understands how I feel.
She listens while I rant
and laughs when I joke.
Jesse is..
I don't know anymore.
And it makes me cry.
Right at this moment.

Someday, I want to act.
The more I do it,
the better I feel.
It's like being up in a high place and spinning
until you're so dizzy that you fall.
Something always catches you at the bottom
and you see the world in a new light.
I think I might want to have it in my life.
I just want to help people,
so maybe it's the wrong thing to do.
I don't know.

I'm afraid of talking to strangers
and ants that fill up bathroom drawers.
I'm afraid of never getting out of here,
and I'm afraid of being afraid.
I'm afraid of being alone
and feeling
like
I
did.
Which means I'm afraid of my life, right now.
I'm not afraid of just doing things,
because some things must be done.

I hate when the clouds break into sunshine.
I hate when people yell.
I hate the feeling of nothingness.
I hate silence.
I cannot stand memories.
I dislike things that make me break or cry.
I dislike fakeness,
it's such a waste of a life to be fake,
and yet I still manage it.
I dislike people who talk too quietly
and people who are afraid to be silly.
I dislike a lack of motion.

I don't have a favourite place,
because all of my favourites hurt me.
I miss my old best friend,
and the way that we used to be.
I miss being innocent.
I miss believing in love.
I miss being happy.
I miss thinking God loved me.
I miss people thinking of me better.
I miss not destroying myself.
Mostly...
I miss my life.

My room cycles between tornado and tidy
because I believe cleaning is a waste,
but it bothers me when I can't find my things.
I like the chaos and disorganization
and feel more comfortable emerged in it.
My walls are purple and the carpet is green.
I don't like them anymore,
but they are familiar.

I've found that treasuring things is a waste.
When I was small, I would gather around me
my favourite toys and things before
I fell asleep,
just in case there was a fire.
I wanted to make sure they made it out alright.
Now I realize, I'd rather it all burned.

I want to get out, maybe to New York.
I want to be somebody.
I want to dance with Taylor
and smile with Breanne.
I want Jesse,
but that is too bad.
I want a house with big picture windows
and books
and comfy beds
and happy people.
I want a home.
I want somebody to smile (or cry)
when they read this poem.

I believe in people.
I believe in a better tomorrow.
I believe in getting out.
I have low expectations
and high hopes.
I believe in broken promises
and I believe in lies.
I do not believe in love or complete joy.
I believe in scars.

People can be beautiful
if held in the right light.
We must be taught,
and we must learn.
People need more colour and sunshine
and a little bit of rain to dance in
so that they can believe in living.
People hold onto their hurt
because often,
there is nothing else to hold onto.
People need to experience love,
but should never experience
it being ripped away.

I like to act, so that I may dizzy dance.
I like running and dancing and screaming.
I like staying late and getting up early
and being sustained by coffee and adrenaline.
I like helping people
and being needed.

My favourite books are innumerable, but mostly,
Looking for Alaska.
Books tell stories, just like what I want to do.
I mostly don't care what the music is
as long as I can feel it
and breathe it.
I need it for the escape.

I don't very much like movies,
but I do like curling up on the couch
and watching the screen flicker
while my friends chatter around me.

I have two dogs, Bijou and Elroy, and they often bother me.
I used to have a cat, but he ran away.
I refer to my brother as my pet monkey.

I want to see the world,
but not the way everybody else sees it.
I want to backpack through Europe, alone.
I want to see all the museums
and contemplate life,
but I must do it by myself.
I cannot tell a partner about hills and trees and stars
until I fully understand them in relation to myself.

I need Taylor.
I need theater.
I need space.
I need closeness.
I need hope.
I need help.

I used to have a hero,
but then I learned heroes are people too
and they will always let you down.
My hero let me fall to the ground,
so I no longer believe in heroes.
That's idolatry,
believing in people that way.
Unrealistic.

I have shakey beliefs
and shakier hopes.
I have no respect for myself,
no respect for my body.
I give smiles.
I give hope.
I give faith.
I can scream.
I can drive
far
away
from
here.
I am nothing in the grand scheme of things.
When I get fall, I fall hard.

Love moved mountains.
Love gave breath to my lungs.
Love helped me to rise in the mornings.
Love gave me beautiful dreams
and hopes
and beliefs.
Love died
and ceased to be real.
Love is nothing.

I hope I can get Tay and me through this.
I hope I can make a difference.
I hope I can learn again
to believe in the things I've lost.
I hope I can forget his words.
I hope I can lose the scars and the hurt.
I feel no desire for power,
I just hope I can be needed.

I just..am.

**Based off the same format as Jesse's.**