Vacuum

I’m breathing, once, twice,
A sudden take of breath after
I hold it in for fourteen seconds
Exact, one after the other, and
Somewhere along the sidelines
I feel my chassis deceiving me
Of inhalation. I’m breathing, but
I am trying not to, just after a 
Pause of two and half seconds,
Because it wouldn’t matter to
Anyone if I was to be lost in the
Swirling seed of a dandelion, and
I do not wish to change it, or me,
Because I’ve asked for this, and
I’ve asked to be pushed and shoved
And interrogated in the dark, I have
Asked to be bruised and scarred,
And be torn apart to let myself have
The satisfaction of existing as an
Invisible disillusion, solely because
I remember how it felt like to first
Be disregarded as a vacuum which
No one appreciates, and so I’m
Breathing, but I’m trying not to,
Because if I were to leave today,
I know no one would miss me,
For I have no one to miss if I were
To leave with nothing but myself,
But then again, you’ve charged 
All errors in my name, and I don’t 
Know if I like the person I am, when
The people I have loved and given
Enough of myself for, would rather,
And in all fairness, have me dead.

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