Invisible In My Own LIfe

Sometimes I think my fingers

Are not these pencils of blood and bone

But rather the space between them.

Sometimes I think I am everything I’m not.

I think that I am mist on the river.

I think that I am unrefracted light.

I think that I am the blank spaces on the wall no one ever seems to notice.

Sometimes  I feel invisible in my own life.

I’ve got fistfuls of friends I’m tugging out

Begging to look at me

Because I’m not quite sure if I’m real.

I understand they have their own lives

They have things they must attend to

And I’m sure I do get annoying

But sometimes

Sometimes I just need someone to wrap their arms around me

So I can know my own mass.

To know that I am not the space pushed between two atoms

But rather that I am millions upon millions of atoms.

I’ve got this fake cocky girl swagger down.

I can spit words off my lips with the most demeaning of stares

But honestly I don’t know if I’m real sometimes.

I don’t know if the pressure I feel against my back is the couch cushion

Or just my own mind hovering over some body pretending.

I run my hands along icy chain link fences

And I walk on concrete in the middle of the summer

I take scalding showers and ice baths

Just to feel something.

But that doesn’t tell me if anyone sees me.

That doesn’t tell me if this is worth something.

Because I feel invisible in my own life.

A shadow people look through.

And I know I should have more self worth

I know I should be shaking my head no

Saying I am better than this

But I still don’t know who I am.

And honestly I’m not sure if I’m the blank spaces

Or exactly what I am.

All I know is sometimes

I feel invisible in my own life.