∰|Daily life of a dying bird

There are some things in life i do not know how to explain. There are skills i do not posses and facts i cannot process. But as the days walk ahead and neglect to see if I'm keeping up-- I start to understand that maybe my place is in the behind. Ten paces behind the rest, or a permanent presence in the median. One foot on the sidewalk, one on the grass-- there is no space for me to run ahead or indulge in friendly conversation. And so i simply miss the big moments in life. I tell myself that's what id prefer anyways, why go to prom when i can simply stay home and sink into my bed. Why go to class when i cannot conceive what they feed me. Why go anywhere when i cannot put on my shoes. 

I know its hard to watch, and i wish i could explain it all to you with a click of my tongue. Whilst my father may not accept my halfside rotting routine, i know i have. 

There are some things in life that i fall short on. I cannot hear the words you say or read the numbers you place on my plate. Like a deer head, mounted to the wall; i stare unmoving at the equations infront of me and pretend to be there. I know all i have to do is *think*. I know all i have to do is will myself into the moment and move my pen. But unknown to you, that is an ability i do not posses. 

Its hard to watch, my ever growing absence and unpaid assignments, i know. But i secretly thank the teachers who pay me no mind, who leave me to my losses. 

There are some things in life that i am, to simply put it, bad at. I cannot do division and i cannot get up at 6. I cannot eat infront of you and i cannot text back. I cannot walk the dog and i cannot will away tears. Accepting this being my actuality in the moment, at seventeen, is something i can do. But as repetition turns to reality, i fear that accepting this as an inevitable permanent is a hill i do not wish to climb.