Maybe

I wasn’t exactly right the last time.

Maybe I just don’t take my feelings seriously.

Maybe it started at home—I remember so many times

when my feelings or opinions were brushed off

and maybe now it rubs off on me:

I am unable to validate being sad and hopeless

after two years

nor feeling hurt and forsaken

though I was indeed hurt and forsaken

Why do I keep gaslighting myself

Meanwhile, I am also so grateful

for those few adults that did take me seriously

and listened to me 

(mostly whining, tbh

but than isn’t that such an integral part of teenagerhood?)

mainly men: my high school class master, a Franciscan,

my bassoon teacher,

my university chaplains

You have no idea how much I needed those conversations (weeps)