Hello, I'm Nobody

Hello, I’m nobody.

Please don’t pay attention to me,

In fact you can see right through me.

I didn’t prepare for your prying eyes,

Didn’t prepare to be under scrutiny.

Hello, I’m a paradox.

I’m a solid human who doesn’t want to be seen,

A creature with a soul that doesn’t want to love,

A mortal creature that never wants to die,

A human and nobody.

Hello, I didn’t really want to talk to you

Even though I have been watching

From across the room.

Wasn’t prepared to talk,

Even though my mouth was open.

Hello.

My love is a trick cigarette,

It wants to burn, but refuses to light.

Hello, I mean, goodbye.

My smile is a dare to come closer,

But my hands haven’t made a necklace for you,

Yet.

I try not to choke you,

But my words are shoving themselves

Down

Your

Throat

Hello.

I’m nobody.

But how can I be no one when “I” means I exist?

But I don’t want to, could I just be

You.

Your words,

Your colors ,

Careened into my dreams.

A woven reality which I never wanted to leave.

Hello.

Goodbye.

Because as soon as I edge fugitively into your life I am

Leaving.

Hello.

I’m nobody.

You won’t remember me

Tomorrow morning

When you

Finally

Wake

Up.

Could I be nobody for everybody?

Hello.

You don’t remember me,

Just a foggy memory

Like a ship that’s lost at sea

But I used to be in love with you.

To you I am nobody.

Which means you remember.

Hello.

Author's Note from "My Vision For America"

This was actually a speech I wrote for a contest for the VFW/ for my Speech and debate class. The prompt was "What is your vision for America?" I just found this even though I wrote it months ago.

~I'm a Unicorn

My Vision For America

My America.

When I heard this prompt, I asked myself,

"Why is my vision for America important?"

But then I realized that someday,

One day,

This will be my America.

My generation will shape the future.

My generation can be the generation to change the world.

But what will my generation change the world into?

Until I realized that I was in control of the future,

I was scared of it.

What it will be,

What it will hold.

But I believe that the future will be amazing.

I believe that my peers,

The people sitting next to me,

Who I pass in the hallways daily,

We will change the world.

Today I walked with my head down through the halls,

Fitting through the gaps in the throngs of people whose eyes never follow me.

My America will have more confidence.

My America will not have people telling others that they are not good enough.

My America will tell people that they are perfect the way they are,

That they never have to change.

My America will be confident enough to dance,

To sing,

To shine.

My America will walk with its head held high.

My America will be confident enough to stand up and say "no" when nobody else will.

My America will have the confidence to be who it wants to be.

My America will be confident.

My America will be tolerant.

No one should be able to tell us who we can love,

What we can say,

How we can express ourselves,

What to believe in,

Who to pray to.

No one should be able to tell us we don't know what we're doing.

My friends have all different sexualities and religions,

But that doesn't make them less human.

My America will be more tolerant of people's choices

And mistakes,

The scribbles over the wrong answer

The corrections in red pen yelling at us that we were wrong.

Mistakes are how we learn who we are,

And who we're going to be,

And when we tell people no,

We kill the person inside who is trying to get out.

My America will not tell people no.

That they can't love,

Can't believe,

Can't make mistakes,

My America will be tolerant.

My America will be beautiful.

My America will honor people who are different.

With different skin colors,

Disabilities,

Different languages.

They will not be persecuted.

Different is beautiful.

My America will not tell people they have to erase their differences,

Become someone else,

To be beautiful.

And not just beautiful on the outside,

My America will be full of people with beautiful hearts,

With honor,

Who love,

And care,

And will not tell people that they can't.

They will not murder,

Or rape,

Or hurt anyone just because they can.

And my America,

Full of beautiful hearts,

We will make the world a better place to live.

We will find a way to reduce greenhouse gasses,

Recycle,

Stop dumping waste into the ocean,

Stop tearing up the world just for its resources,

My America

Full of beautiful people

Who love differences,

With beautiful hearts,

Who care for others,

We will make the world gorgeous.

And my America will be beautiful.

My America will be brave.

My America will be brave enough to be kind,

To make mistakes.

My America will be brave enough to continue to protect itself,

Protect its freedom,

Protect its people,

From people who tell us that we can't be free,

Can't be who we want to be,

My America will be brave enough to have a beautiful heart.

My America will be brave enough to be different.

My America will be brave enough to put its life on the line,

Sacrifice everything,

To protect its freedom.

My America will

Be the land of the free,

Of the confident,

Of the tolerant,

Of the beautiful,

Of the different,

Of the brave.

This is my vision for what my America will be.

My Hands

People always look at me and tell me that my hands are small.
Like it is something that makes me vulnerable
Adorable
Unable to fend for myself.
I looked down at my hands today.
They are small
And scarred
And soft
And warm
And alive
And yes.
My hands are tiny.
There's nothing I can do about that.
But it's not a disadvantage.
These hands held my mother's hand as I crossed the street when I was little.
These hands write the poems, scrawling over the paper from my mind.
These hands play the music, pulling it from my cello.
These hands formed a fist that made me feared.
These hands made my first tackle in football.
These hands grabbed other's hands when my fear of the dark was too much.
These hands show what I am trying to say. Spelling out my life in signs.
These hands held my sister's smaller hand as I walked her to the bus stop.
These hands picked out my first fuzzy best friend.
These hands shook the hands of new people I have met.
These hands wiped away my saltwater tears from my eyes.
These hands wiped the fog off the window so I could see.
These hands typed my story.
These hands punched the air when I accomplished something.
These hands are raised when I know the answer to a question.
These hands hold my blankets around my body at night.
These hands have been held out to help someone up if they fall.
These hands have made art.
Paintings
And drawings
And pictures
And poetry
And music.
These hands cover my laugh when I'm not supposed to be laughing.
These hands are too small to wrap a football, or a wrist, or hang on to anything.
But I try.
I hold on as hard as I can.
My small hands
Grasping to save what is falling.
My hands are not a disadvantage.
My hands can create
And play
And help
And hurt
And cover my laugh
And wipe away my tears
And write my poems.

My hands can be strong