[  ] i am Diane Nguyen
[  ] when the lights are off and the room's too quiet.
[  ] when i start spiraling over nothing,
[  ] but pretend i’m just tired.
[  ] when i swallow the urge to say, “i’m not okay,”
[  ] because i don’t want to ruin the vibe.
[  ] i get her.
[  ] she writes things she’ll never publish
[  ] and calls it healing.
[  ] me too.

[  ] i am Flame Princess.
[  ] masking my heat with forced politeness,
[  ] but the fire kicks at the cracks in my voice.
[  ] i was taught too young that my feelings were too much
[  ] so i bottled them.
[  ] and when the bottle breaks,
[  ] i’m the villain.
[  ] one day you’ll get it
[  ] that’s never who i was.
[  ] i’m just a girl who’s overstimulated,
[  ] trying not to combust.
[  ] trying to regulate in an unadjusted world.


[  ] i am Kirk Gleason,
[  ] Full of chaotic side character energy.
[  ] i tell stories with weirdly specific details
[  ] so no one notices i’m actually unraveling.
[  ] being silly is easier than being seen.
[  ] i make people laugh so noone ever stops to ask
[  ] The dreaded "are you okay"
[  ] I make people laugh because if they’re laughing,
[  ] they’ll stay.

[  ] I am Jake the Dog,
[  ] soft and simple.
[  ] i love hard and think deep.
[  ] i hold onto weird metaphors
[  ] about cups and pillow forts
[  ] I tell myself not to get hung up on imaginary things
[  ] because that’s how i understand the world.
[  ] i just wanna chill,
[  ] but my brain won’t always let me.
[  ] yet still I try, cause to love life you need problems
[  ] And i am determined to live to my to its fullest

[  ] i am Ted Mosby,
[  ] annoyingly romantic.
[  ] the kind who falls in love in soft, slow ways
[ ] not with only with grand gestures, but with quiet familiarity.
[  ] The type to romanticise shared eyecontact and exchanged looks
[  ] i write poems about people
[  ] who don’t know they broke my heart.
[  ] Though i still think love is worth the mess
[  ] Even when i doubt myself i always know
[  ] Loving someone is never a waste

[  ] and i’m Periwinkle.
[  ] the soft, sparkly part of me i locked in a box
[  ] when life got loud.
[  ] When life didn't understand I was only a child
[  ] i still believe in her.
[  ] i still believes she's there.
[  ] The little kid, with not so little dreams
[  ] she danced in the frost and thought the world was kind.
[  ] she’s quiet now,
[  ] Her sparkle not so bright
[  ] but she’s not gone, just dimmed
[  ] she still hides in old drawings and weird dreams like buried sea glass on a beach

[  ] i’m not all these people all the time.
[  ] but they live in me
[  ] in the sighs i swallow,
[  ] in the jokes i tell too loud,
[  ] in the poems no one reads.

[  ] i wear them like second hand hoodies,
[  ] hoping one won’t smell too much like someone else.
[  ] some days i throw them all on at once,
[  ] just to feel something that fits.
[  ] some days i stare at the pile
[  ] and don’t even bother.

[  ] i just want someone to notice
[  ] without me having to ask.
[  ] someone to say,
[  ] “i see you , even the parts you hide.”

[  ] until then,
[  ] Ill keep hiding my true self,
[  ] Untill I'm truly seen
[  ] Piecing myself together with glitter glue and stubborn hope,
[  ] soft rage and borrowed words.

[  ] and maybe i’m still becoming.
[  ] and maybe that’s okay.