the truth is
i am being brave
and it is killing me
i’m still going, somehow
though this world terrifies me
the thought of my demise
sends spiders scuttling
my bracelets are too big for my wrists
and my rings for my fingers
it’s been years since they fit
it’s been years
since i fit
and most days i can stomach it
but being brave
when you’re ready to cave
is an uneasy fate
it is june now
this is my last month
of being twenty
i remember being fifteen
and believing
i would not make it to twenty
and now
i am about to hold twenty one
with the knowledge
i will make it to twenty two
and more than that too
being brave
is exhausting me
but it is okay
it is what i was put here for
there have been times
i did not need to be brave
and i know
there will still be more.