Not Even Fully Human

I walked you to your daughter's hospital room and you called me an angel. I wanted to apologize to you. Because I'm not an angel. I wonder if I'm even fully human. I'm always so empty, but I paint on smiles and pull laughter from nothing. I'm not human enough to even let those around me see my cracks. You say it's because of pride, but I say it's because my demons aren't worth your time. I'm like one of those stupid run-down computers that were too lovingly hated and faded into blue screens of death.


I always stood by you. You called me the happy child, the strong child. But I drew my strength and happiness from you. You never saw me claw my skin. You never heard me tear myself apart. I found my humanity in you, only to wake up to wisps of your memory.