I can’t stop building boxes

by Brammy Rajakumar

I can; we all can
I can’t help but make boxes
I build the cardboard for a new box and
Shove myself in
Like it will fit me completely and flawlessly and you won’t have to
See
my true
shape

Like it is
You can just see it like it should be
So I fit
But then I

Break the box
Shatter the sides
Clumsily
With my elbow
not my fist
And the cardboard flies everywhere and I watch
The

Broken
Bits

Like I watch my pencils
SNAP
When I am frustrated with them

But mostly with myself

I make a new box every time
And every time I watch it break and
I break too
Because I don’t know how to fix it
To weave its thin ties back together and build it
Anew
Like it’s a rug that I’m making
With my bare hands
from scratch

I am tired of making boxes
You tell me I don’t need them
But then your pictures and your words
turn into lies
Wagging tongues that promise then laugh
as I burn and break free
As the cardboard spills again

I fear the wind, thinking It’s always a hammer
Waiting to pounce on me
Around the corner

I try to convince myself
it doesn’t matter
But then I turn around and tell myself to
be better

I walk into a room and they say
You don’t look like anyone I’ve met before
You don’t act like anyone else I’ve met before
And I think
No I don’t act like someone I’ve met before either
So I fix it

And I say don’t worry
I have the green eyes and the accent
And then I turn around

To the other side and I say
I have your skin and I understand your jokes
But I still have my voice and
my confusion
Written
A c r o s s
My face
Like it’s a smile

Like I always smile
But now I don’t smile as much anymore
But then I smile too much and laugh too hard
I don’t want to be a caricature of my former self
But I want happiness; can’t I have it?

But then sometimes
I’ll lord one side over the other
I’ll say
I’ve seen the world turned over
And you haven’t
And you’ll never truly understand
But I can

But that’s not right either
because
because because
I too can’t ever see each side fully
Either one

me neither, you’ll say
but we can try, you’ll say
and I’ll smile like I mean it
but inside I’ll want to cry
because
because because
nothing’s right

And I do like making boxes
that fit the two of us, you and me
and we can sit and talk and laugh
and the box will always fit us
and no forked glares can see inside
but us

and we can be honest and real
and both the green and the brown
the South and the Eastern
hemisphere

crazy and sweet and real and hopeful and angry
fearless but fearful

but honest, always
honest

but then little lies build up
and I can’t tell what’s true and what’s not
sometimes
and I don’t want to lie but I can’t tell you the truth
and I can’t find the truth

I can be a million things
but also only one thing
and sometimes the one thing
wishes she were surrounded by others
who acted like they
were a million things
too