Some days I open my eyes and I see the door to my room.

White paint, with a brass doorknob.

I see the tiled floor and the calendar I hung up.

All the while I get ready for school.

 

Some days I wait for the bus

In the morning air, breathing in the cold,

Thanking the bus driver as she pulls over.

Staring out the window and watching the world pass by.

 

Some days I sit at breakfast with my friends

And I hear them talk

And I hear them laugh

And not one ounce of me wants to smile.

 

Some days I have to remind myself

That it's okay for people to hug me

That it's normal to let people pat me on the back

Because some days, I recoil back into my shell.

 

Some days, I will feel angry

Don't worry, it's not directed to you

But rather to the cosmic universe.

Just misplaced anger that seeps out of me

Oozing into the days and time.

 

Some days, I want to die.

 

And that is perfectly fine.