i don't know how to stop being me anymore

cut out parts of me for the sake of

saving the others

handing them over on a silver platter

like

"hey guys, this is what you wanted from me,

the best of me not the rest of me

the half of me not the whole of me

the me that is holy but wholly incomplete

masquerading and totally indiscreet

the reason why i can’t wear socks on my feet because

this part of me is too hot for you to touch

this part of me knows what to do with love

this part of me knows what to do with love

this part of me has a space for everyone

this part of me there’s no rejecting

no reflecting

no disconnecting from

disrespecting of

objectifying the

steel of fire and ice

lime of the light

highest of price

join or die

no flight but fight

the piece of all the pieces of

me.”

so how do i go about separating that me

from the rest of me

without losing all of me to the choice bit

of me

i think that if you try to shape your mouth around

try to chomp down

bite into

tear apart

grind me into dust

then that might be enough reason for why the

rest of me is not needed because

there will be nothing left to hold the rest of me down

nothing left of me to tarnish the crown

bloodstain the gown

stitch on the frown

poison the ground

remind me why i went looking for myself

in the first place

constructed this collage of

awkward realizations and moments of brilliance

heartfelt and heartbroken

declarations of “yeah i maybe might just a little bit

sometimes like you i don’t know yet”

"these shoes do not go with that dress"

'your face is too round for makeup yet'

'but your face will never be too round for sex'

i jest

the need for you to put yourself down is too serious

the fact that you think there’s something wrong with you

delirious “but seriously you might need help”

you think of things that shouldn’t affect exactly how you felt

like half a world away

women are being sold on the market as sex slaves

children don’t know that water should not be the same color as mud

that women that wear hijabs still know love

that we as a nation really need to decide that enough is enough

i think that you think that there is no way out

that you were born with the pain of the world

and half of you know exactly what i’m talking about

so how do i go about

pushing it out

making it someone else’s responsibility even though that pain

makes up the other half of me

the me that no one asks for because they don’t see

that this part of me cries

this part of me dies

this part of me shrivels up a little bit inside

whenever you pass without a smile

whenever you decide not to stay for while

whenever you don’t see what i see in those eyes with wings

whenever you look at me

so what do i do with the rest of me

when the me that they ask for the me

that they believe to be the whole of me

is incomplete.

—notobeasked