It’s fine, I tell myself,

as you make dagger like comments that bite my skin.

It’s fine, I persuade myself,

as I prepare to tell you what you least want to hear.

It’s fine, I convince myself,

as you scream in my face and tell me I’m a freak.

I don’t care, I tell myself,

as you pretend I don’t exist, as you grieve for a funeral I never had.

I don’t care, I persuade myself,

as you tell me not to talk about my stupid phase in front of anyone.

I don’t care, I convince myself,

as I cease my sobbing, because you aren’t worth my misery.

I’m going to be okay, I tell myself,

as you shout and curse and order me to get out of your house.

I’m going to be okay, I persuade myself,

as I pack my things, choking myself with bittersweet memories.

I’m going to be okay, I almost convince myself,

as I stand at the door to a place I once called home, suitcases in hand.

I almost convince myself I never belonged here anyway.