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.
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
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