Just another number,
A percentage sign but filled with hope
To be an exclamation point.
Someday, I will reach up and
Leave part of me behind
The inconsequential part.
It will look like a dot.
But it will actually be my pulsing bloody heart
That I have to drop to fly.
Its weight exceeded the allowed
I was disabled by my needs
For love, for attention, for food.
Like any other child,
I was afraid of being left behind.
A hungry open wound of a mouth
Crying like an eagle's chick
Expecting a morsel of liver
And getting a piece of plastic bag
With some pills inside
And instructions listing side effects.
I know that I should remain positive.
A plus sign on a yellow background
Means joy in the depressive's language.
But then they arrived,
The chicks from the nest next door
To teach me community begins with humility.
Now, I ask and become a question mark
Waiting for a humble response
Because if not, you are taking from me
My eagle's wings for water balloons.