A Phase Ago By: L Bonaccio

A phase ago I was stark, eager to please, and conflicted

I constantly reassign the person I am to fit into a box so I won’t end up alone

And when I mean alone I mean laying in my bed while the popular girls in my grade bond over their body counts without me

I am the butterfly who is never happy with their cocoon because their cocoon is never         comfortable enough

A phase ago I would have prided myself for being the butterfly when in actuality I am the wasp 

The wasp stings because it feels threatened by the animals around them telling it how to behave

I sting because I feel pressurized by those around me to understand why I do not feel snug within the depths of my physique

Memories from pre adolescence are so difficult to grab ahold of without family photo books because I can’t remember how I felt when I didn’t feel the need to please anyone else but myself

My only worries back then was the cartoons that were on in the morning while I stuffed my tiny mouth with breakfast 

Now my worries are like a cat that I distract with dangle mouse toys so it won’t have time to ponder 

I comprehend that the sly Fox’s around me won’t understand the dysphoria that preoccupies my head

Because I myself have been on a journey throughout the vast sea and let me tell you how many times I was close to being shipwrecked is more than my fingers can handle and yet I still couldn’t tell you the reasoning for my dejection

But as these expeditions end within the last year of my high school life I am closer than ever to locating the treasure that is who I will become

A phase ago I was a whisk of delicate, addled, and naive

Nowadays I am the iron-willed wasp, cat, and explorer searching for the most realistic version of myself