wound

crying into palms palm trees knees scraped i fell off my bike

i fell off my scooter

my side is scraped now and i dont know what to do stinging burning the night burning the night i cant see it i cant feel i cant .

my palms are red . my eyes are red. my eyes have dark circles underneath. im underneath it all. the weight of the whole heirarchy. on my back and im alone. im still alone. i never had anywhere to go. i still dont have anywhere to go. what am i supposed to do. ive always had to flee. ive always had to leave and leave and leave and expect nothing there. i have no home. i have no family. i have no me. there is no core to me. my default life is so broken i dont even want to look at it anymore. ive come up for air after drowning. its been so long i stopped thinking there was anything above water. i can come up with so many complex systems around so many massive things but im in pain. i cant intellectualize the pain away and its torture. it gets stuck in my back. stuck in my face. stuck in my skin. its aching. i feel on edge all of the time. i tiptoe around the house. i walk with the back of my feet up in the air. i try to be as quiet as possible. as unnoticable as possible. im afraid of losing everything at all times. im afraid they will come for everything ive ever had. always afraid. i dont know how to cry. ive never felt okay to. i have to be angry and see the patterns of anger leaving a subtle hint to myself that maybe im upset. maybe im not angry about how people are maybe im sad. maybe i feel alone. all of the time. maybe im not lonely maybe im not doing something wrong. it just shouldn’t have happened. i cant think of one thing that shouldve happened the way it did. i didnt deserve over 20 fucking years of my life. I feel ashamed i cant keep up the lie of family anymore. the lie, the lie , the fucking lie. its in my biology. embedded into how i react to fucking everything. i reconstruct myself in an instant based off any movement, any sign of danger. i just played along. i played little games and pretended it wasn’t there. the aching festering wound in my chest that i knew would never leave i knew it wouldnt. i cried myself to sleep thinking about what if there was nothing after. what if there was nothing and all this pain meant nothing. what if i was nothing. what if god saw me and saw nothing. just a feeble little ant. a little waste of time. what do you do when its over? when all you have is the devastation, what do you do when it's over? I have never had a life before this. i was never a person without devastation. how do i exist now? i know there will never be an answer but im allowed to want one, to want mercy.