In-Between Middle Kids.

This poem may never make headlines,

Much like the struggles that shadow my life.

Walking these roads so thin,

I feel suspended between heaven and earth—

Alive and dead, good girl and bad girl, savior and devil.

Always the angel, never the God,

Good enough but never the best.

Congratulations, but no celebration.

______

I linger in the in-between,

Fighting two worlds I don’t belong,

One powerful, the other free—

The confined isn’t part;

But that’s where I’ve been.

Shouting into the void,

Screaming at this expanse called life,

But outside, they never hear me clear.

Eyes meet mine but never look in;

All these ears around forsake me,

Invisible headphones block their ears when I talk.

Shades are on when I cry.

Why don’t they see me?

Am I real?

Do I mean anything?

_______

My mind is a labyrinth of in-between,

Always out of reach.

“Incompetent,” they’ve called it,

Yet it tries so hard to make sense of this heavyweight thrust.

Assigned to a body unloved, untouched.

It runs in solitude,

Trying to fill the void of love with fragments of hope.

_________

Little brain, little heart, little mind of mine-

No longer so little, yet stuck

On the pins of childhood pain.

Tasked too early with raising this body,

Clarity was a stranger, sight always blurred

Criticism fell like rain;

Too young to understand,

Too young to shield myself.

In my head, I raised myself—

While I merely grew up with my parents.

Still, I’m truly grateful for the roof they gave.

________

I live in the in-between,

Telling nuanced stories through the cracks

Of a fractured, layered view of the world.

Don’t stretch me thin,

Don’t stretch others like me—

The middle, the forgotten kids.

Don’t break us with these rigid boxes we never fit in.

We’ve already broken enough—

The hurt runs deep within.

________

Regardless of whether you acknowledge or see us,

We’ll claim our place.

For even as the in-between stretches,

We’ll forge our own path,

Climb to the top, and carve our way.

You may push us out,

But pulling us down draws the line.

________

We’ll make headlines,

Even if it’s in our hearts alone.

The strength within us grows—

The in-between becomes our inn,

A space to keep and call our own.

No more knocking on doors,

That don’t welcome us in.