Colorful Dreams, Making Sense, Insecurity or a Deeper Feeling

Poems Written by Aura Hendler

Author's Note:

Colorful Dreams and Making Sense are about my case of Social Pragmatic Communication Disorder and how I've navigated it and how I've constantly felt my whole life. Insecurity or a Deeper Feeling is about my gender dysphoria and how uncomfortable I am about voicing it, even with those closest to me like my parents.

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The Insomniac’s Prayer

Let me

sleep, for I have done

nothing wrong

I am laying here

my eyes to the ceiling

staring at the bulb

where a light flickered out

at my demand

music is playing in my ears

and Melatonin is in my

veins

yet it is never enough

for my eyelids to feel heavy

let me drift to the

dimensions of dreams

and other subconscious epiphanies

let me not function

off of coffee and

caffeinated ginger tea with

honey

darkness, envelope me

with your crushing arms

coat my eyes with your

black glaze and let me

sleep

I am the insomniac

And this is my prayer.

Remembrance of a Friend

I am sitting in bed, tears in

my eyes

I am lonely

I have never felt this way before

despite my being alone all the time

What I wouldn’t give

to see that smile again

to hear that laugh

to see that skinny mass of darkness

that made me so bright

why didn’t you come back

Why must I

wish upon these stars

to hear those jokes

to see that smile

to feel completed

in a way that I haven’t felt in

so

many

months

since I’ve seen

you last

I wouldn’t care

if you were different

because it would still be you

and you are my friend

I still remember

how could I ever forget

us

out in the snow

trying to see who could last the longest

without their sweaters or coats

in the bitter cold

us

the time we built houses in

Minecraft to find the better builder

yet we couldn’t decide the winner

Will we ever?

us

with other friends

where we chugged down

tiny water bottles

to see who was the fastest

What I wouldn’t give to hear

your voice

remember your smile

never forget

your laugh

You are all I want to remember

I miss you so much

I am alone

I am lonely

but I will never forget you

Shut Up

I whisper softly to myself

to memorize a poem

to present the next day

I try to be quiet

and I know I’m loud-spoken

let me speak to myself

for you are louder than I could

ever be

you say shut up

to me while I work as quietly

as my memorization

allows me

I’ve learned not to care

about what you say when I go

into my own head or

talk to myself

so I won’t shut up

I won’t be quiet

because that hasn’t gotten me

anywhere and it

never will

Let me talk to myself

because I’m not

hurting you

even though you’ve hurt

me

Girl With The Music

Earbuds in the ears

Volume at 7.5%

Playing an already soft song

The lyrics and the music

A soft massage to the

Brain

The girl with that is me

Tracy Chapman,

Imagine Dragons,

Dido,

Marc Cohn,

Demi Lovato,

The Avett Brothers

All coax me to sleep

Every night

Far better than

Melatonin with my Insomnia

I want to share that

Inner peace

I want all to hear

I may have different taste

For my music, but this

Is what I need

Poking Roses

Fold into 4 and

4 quick folds

Another 4

Another 4

Pleat fold each corner

And half unfold

All 12 points

Now, by far the most

Fun, but

Potentially the most painful

Piece of my origami roses

Quickly stabbing that

Wire stem, covered with fluff

Through the nearly split center of

This rose

A quick puncture,

Like a scalpel through skin

The sharp wire tip pokes my finger

Roughly, but not quite hard enough

To draw blood

Like a light green, fluffy syringe

They are poking roses,

They are, but they are my

Marbled paper roses

Colorful Dreams

Why can’t I read

A face like a book

Why do I have to look for clues

Like a detective to

Find how someone feels

Eyelashes in clumps

Means tears of some

Variety, to which I’m always wrong

Slightly squinted eyes is

Happiness

Why can’t I just tell

I was already lagged to begin

With but

It’s a dream for me to read emotions

Like words on a page

But it’s a colorful dream

That is too far out of

Reach for me to see anymore

But I can sense things

Where no one else sees

It’s like they’re begging

For someone to see

I don’t scream for them

But people can scream

Feelings for me

I’m going to scream my feelings

I will try to see yours

I’m no empath because I am

Unable to see those emotions

That are supposedly so

Easy to see

Why can’t I understand

Why can’t I be like everyone

Else

Why must I go a hundred

Miles further

To see how someone simply feels

It’s no colorful dream that will

Come true

But I can imagine

I can dream a colorful dream

Chrysanthemum Scapegoat

I take my folders

Green and purple in color

And I sit on the bench outside

While half-listening to my

Classmates inside

I’m just folding a couple of

Chrysanthemums to educate my

Peers on the fine art of

Origami flowers

I see the Spanish teacher

Start to walk towards me

I signal for them to escape

But only one kid sees

He gets out and sits next

To me

And asks how to make

A Chrysanthemum, it

Seems staged I know, but

I’ll always help to keep

Everyone I can out of

trouble

I show him the steps and

The Spanish teacher appears

Oblivious to the fact

That I was the only one not

Breaking the rules

I’m a scapegoat, everyone

Else got yelled at

But us, all because

Of a hot pink

Piece of paper,

So elegantly folded into a

Chrysanthemum

My Garden of Eden

I have folded these elegant

Flowers, and I

Have a roll of painter’s tape

Yes, the adhesive is

Weaker,

Like my dream,

But it will not peel

The paint on the ceiling

And walls

I stab pipe-cleaners through

Every flower and tape them to my

Ceiling

The cosmos looks like a ceiling

Fan in the oddest place,

A bouquet of flowers,

Perfect for a funeral,

Sits by my bookshelf

Tied with a fluffy, black pipe cleaner

ribbon

A rainbow hydrangea perched

On the wall

With a green ribbon vine,

Constantly threatening to

Fall off

A yellow narcissus on my bookshelf

And a pink rose with a crane

Attached on the other side

A random, dark blue

Chrysanthemum grows

Above my dresser

An attention-demanding sunflower

Sprouting from

My door

Space-paper azaleas

Line the foot of my

Bed like a battalion of floral soldiers

Ready for battle

A rose vine spirals up and down

My lantern-like desk lamp

Several flowers are

Shoved into the red vase

But I still need more space

My room is an untamed garden

Of paper flowers

That grow from every surface

They sprout like weeds

And grow into beautiful

Blooms of

Gorgeous paper

Stay Up

All of those folds

Seemingly for nothing

The several yards of tape

All for nothing

I wasted so many resources

On keeping that flower

Up on the ceiling

Like a bright ceiling fan

The centre a gold,

2 petals, light pink

The other 4 petals

Turquoise and teal

Like the surface of the sea

The other, using 14 sheets of paper

One of each pattern,

And the 2 shades of green

I taped a dark green ribbon to it,

Maybe that would keep it from

Falling

But I failed, stay up

Stay up, stay up

Don’t fall like a

Stone to the

Bottom of a lake

Stay strong paper flowers

Sprout from the ceiling and walls

Like weeds in between

Stones

Stay strong, soul

Grow and blossom

Like all of those beautiful

Hand-made flowers

Drawings

I have my set of sketching

Pencils, 12B to 10H

It draws great things

Like my characters for stories

I’ll typically start a drawing with

My HB pencil, your average

Number 2 pencil.

I make the rough human form

Of one flying through the paper

On the floor

And add the lines to remove

The ellipse joints with my eraser

I add details to the

Clothes and face

I draw details into the background

Like falling books and papers and a couple of flowers

I move the sheets of paper to

My desk, and I pull out

A simple, black ballpoint pen and

Cover every line with the black

Ballpoint blood

I pull out my eraser again

And rub it over the pen’s ink

To erase all of those pencil

Scratches

I pull out every single thing I need

36 colored pencils

48 markers

36 crayons

Watercolor markers

3 gel pens

And a cup of water

I mottle the background to be

Brown, black, and olive green

With the markers whose ink

Slide with water like

Loose dye

I wait for the markers to dry

I use a light hand with a brown

Colored pencil for the face and

Hands of this character

The eyes are colored

In with a regular marker,

With a touch of white

Gel ink

The hair is defined with

Crayons, and the clothes

As well

Prominent features in the

Background are done

With markers

And colored pencils

With touches of gold

And silver ink

I sign my name with

A blue pen

It’s an art piece,

My art piece

Broken Wings

Warmth

I feel safe

Tucked in my

Bed curled up

under a space

Print gravity blanket

It’s quiet save

For the music

Playing on my

Desk, a soft

Song called Dream

My face shoved

Into the pillows

Soft flannel sheets

Like pleasant warm

Ongoing summer rains

But I imagine

All The futures

That I could

Clearly be a

Big part of

I’m a doctor

Finding the cure

For cancer or

I’m a teacher

Educating children French

I feel the

Warmth of my

Body wrapped around

Me, but I

Want real warmth

I want warmth

That comes from

Love, and those

I deeply care

About that’s all

I’m Me

I hear those remarks

Quiet, but audible

Clearly directed at me

But not so seemingly

“What is genderfluid”

An identity that I am

I can feel male one day

And female the next

“Is the fluid the gender?

Or does the fluid come out

Of the gender?”

Did you not just hear me?

Shut up, stop it

Stop making fun of who

I am when I can

So clearly hear

I’m me

And not shy to admit it

I’m me

A soul who wants to give

I’m me

A human being

I’m me

So let me be

I am proud of myself

Don’t break me down

I’m not compost

I’m human, with my own

Spectrums that I am a part of

I’m bisexual

I’m genderfluid

I’m human

I’m me

Apologize?

You say you’re sorry

Sure sure sure

You say you’re sorry

For all of those that you hurt

Not like I don’t want to

Believe you

A single lie destroys

Thousands of truths

I’m on edge, always have been

Ever since someone’s apology

To me was false

But it’s not just me

Who you’re apologizing to,

You need to apologize to my friends

Who have such a high

Distaste of you

Why don’t you apologize

To their faces, why talk to me first?

I’m no messenger

I can try to convince them

If you don’t tell your

truth

Was I wrong

These eyes,

With their ever-changing hue

Have they misjudged what would be A

Proper view of you

Allow me to take a guess

And to ramble a little,

But I think that if you could

Undo one action

You would undo that

Untrue, horrendous thing you said

But why should I care?

I am but a woman made

Of porcelain

But my heart is one that beats

And it is bruised, broken, and swollen

Why would you indirectly insult me,

A friend, a close friend at that

Why would you cast aside such

A crucial part of me

Of my identity

A part of me that bounces around

Like a droplet of mist

But being its own thing

You can throw your sticks

Tell your friends to throw their stones

But I am the one created with

Titanium bones

Why don’t you cultivate your

Purple hyacinths

And send them to me one day

And then I’ll send my daffodils on

Their way

But until you admit you’re sorry

And that you will change

I can’t give you my forgiveness

No matter what you’ll say

But if I were to take one thing

I did back

I would take back

My reason to say I give you a second chance

After all,

Change is very hard

But if it’s for the better

Why don’t you try

I thought I could

Make a difference in anyone

But especially you

Was I wrong?

Was it a bad idea to try?

Tell me,

Change my opinion

Give me evidence to prove

Your statement

But that part of me you

Denied will never disappear

It will never fade

But I won’t throw our laughing memories into the shade

I’m not broken

And I don’t think I was wrong

I am stronger because of this

And I will grow

I will reach great heights

I will create change

I will be better

So change, not just for me

But for all of those people

That you hurt and didn’t know it

Don’t stay stagnant on the ground

Grow your wings

Spread them, and take to the sky

I wanted you to fly with me

Was I wrong? Was it wrong

To want that for you?

Stomachache

My stomach

Is churning

It feels like it is doing acrobatics with

My intestines

I say my piece

And then the applause

Hits my ears

With even the occasional

Cheer

I’ve done it

I’ve shared

I’ve shown a painful part of me

That could’ve stayed hidden

But I showed it to all of the people

In my world

And that’s enough

Murdered Murder Desserts

We forgot the milk and sugar

Whoops

And we added the butter too late

Whoops

The red velvet batter was

the slightest bit clumpy

It looks like blood

Murder dessert

I declared with a bright smile

Under that paper mask

To try and even it out

I stab the poor batter with

A spatula

Some of the crimson batter

Splat on my hands

I let out a quiet scream

Am I the only one who feels

The slightest bit awkward stabbing

This batter?

I wasn’t alone in that

We scooped the cupcakes out

And started talking of scenes where

What happened here would happen

Horror movies and murder mysteries

Where the killer takes the blood of their victims

And bakes desserts claiming they’re “red velvet”

I start laughing because I could

Come up with the idea in my head

It’s graphic and a slight bit scary

But it was worth the mistake

Because the cupcakes were still good

And I will always remember it

The little murder desserts

That were messed up red velvet cupcakes

Whoops…

Or maybe not…

Respect

Not the first time

So no surprise from you

After all

You have stepped between the lines before

So why not again

This time closer to the safer end

But not all that much

You disrespect me because of that button I wear

You could have chosen anything else to make

Fun of me for

Like my frizzy hair

My messy glasses

How well I choose to do in my classes

My peculiar behaviors

Or my loud voice

You could have called me a nerd

A showoff

A dork

Or who knows what else

But you point your snide remarks

Towards that button of mine

That a teacher gave me

Because she understands me

The button, and the necklace

For which I wear my pride

Upon my chest

Figuratively and literally

All I want is some respect

Even if just a speck

Just a speck, an iota

I deserve it

Don’t I?

Doesn’t everyone deserve at least

A little respect?

I know my self-worth

And it’s not just a speck

It is modicums

I don’t need kindness

But I at least deserve respect

So just give me the common decency

Of respecting a very crucial part

Of my identity

It’s a small price to pay, isn’t it?

Just a speck of your respect

I do deserve modicums

But a speck, for now, is fine

But don’t disrespect me ever again

Just because of that button I wear

Or any part of me for that matter

Because I am the person

I was meant to be

So accept it because it isn’t going away

Behind Broken Eyes and Inside Strong Ears

I sit at a table

Hands tied behind the back of the chair

Feet tied to the legs of it

The people closest to me

Watching me with mixed expressions

Of pleasure and dismay

My mother, with flaming red hair

Willow body, and cold blue eyes

My father, with dark hair and eyes

And a large stomach

They pour the poison into a glass

And make me drink it

And I gulp it down with glee

I keep making the same mistakes

I keep trying to brainpower my way through

I keep getting distracted

What is my deal?

What is my fault?

What is yours?

Making Sense

You’re feeling sad?

Okay what can I do?

You’re feeling happy?

Can I join you?

You’re feeling angry?

Do you want to vent?

You’re feeling risky?

How much do you want to bet?

Why don’t these make sense?

These feelings?

These sensations that I have numbed myself to

What is my story here?

Why can’t I understand?

Why must everything never make sense?

Why do people’s faces seem all flat and confused?

Why does body language give me no clue?

Why can’t everything just make sense?

Or am I the one who’s just confessed

To feeling strange

Alone

All alone

Lonely

Odd

Out of place

I don’t belong

Nothing makes sense

Or am I the one not making any sense?

Insecurity or a Deeper Feeling?

I don’t feel right

That’s on me, maybe

Or is it something much deeper

Beyond my understanding

Haven’t I done enough introspection

Why don’t I know

What’s wrong with me

Why can’t I see

It’s something that I can’t explain to you

Because it doesn’t even make sense to me

And you have tossed this aside like everything else

When I’m on the line

I’m going downhill

And I know it too

You don’t know?

I’m letting you go

I won’t speak because you won’t understand

Sure you don’t have what I do

And that plays to my hand

You destroyed my happiness

With just a few words

Just a few tugs

Just a few small things

You know I’m not normal

And that has always been the case

I’m not insecure because for that, it’s far too late

I’ve always been applauded for my lack of insecurity

So it’s something much deeper

I don’t fit in with myself

I don’t feel right in the way my body feels

I don’t feel right in the body of this girl

With her hips,

With her slim shoulders,

With her chest,

With her everything

With my everything

I’m not right with myself

It’s something much deeper

Than just a cosmetic thing

Than just what a few accessories can fix

Than just a few things will make disappear

Because I’m not right with myself

And I don’t know what to do