Barred doorways composed of air and subtle hints that are more impenetrable than the thickest steel fitted with a keyhole just wide enough for me to press my face against it in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the world I ache to belong to even though I never will.

In a way it's beautiful to watch if not heartbreaking because although I'll never find that happiness for myself I can appreciate it. At least I'm allowed to be a witness which lets me know it's real - maybe not for me but if others have obtained it then it might not be an impossible goal.

How long am I intended to wait though? Patience has never been a virtue of mine and as the minutes tick by I unravel a little bit more. I'm so afraid that nothing will be left of me soon and it will be too late for someone to knit me back together again.

Kindness reaps itself supposedly but I've found it brings ignorance and tolerance instead. I've morphed and twisted along the years and yet I still remain undesired and alone at the end of the day.

I have more now than I did before so why does that make everything hurt twice as much? Maybe it's the taste of what could be, the teasing nature of friendships that I'm sure will fall apart in a few short years no matter how hard I struggle to keep them intact.

There's a constant ache inside of me that increases by the day and what was once tolerable is now bordering on unbearable but I'm fine. I always have been and I always will be, at least that's what I'll keep telling myself until I'm unable to believe in the falsity for any longer.

- starr