Diagnosis by Kellen Ruiz (17, California)

How can something feel so foreign and familiar on my tongue at once?
Days, weeks, months, begging for answers,
subjecting myself to testing and questions and pain,
all to be left where I started. No closer or farther from understanding myself.

I cry when I am first told it's true and cry again when the doctors change their minds.
Is there anything really wrong with me? Why is no one able to decide?
The bitter taste of acid is unexpected and unpleasant, and it turns as sweet as
honey the minute I start to choke.  

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Never has something contradicted itself so much,,
filling my head and mouth with cotton wool so dry that I collapse, 
and cannot breathe anymore. My lungs expand and salt and oil pool on my skin
like blood. Is it or isn't it? Will I or won't I?
I don't have an answer..
I thought I knew what I was, what I wanted-
until I didn't. I don't think I really ever did.
The minute I begin to understand myself, I am left crumbling back to dust and blowing away in the wind,
​starting over from scratch.

​My whole body itches like it's on fire and I don't even notice, too busy clawing my chest
open to pull my still-beating heart from where it lays nestled amongst my ribs.
I inspect it, looking for imperfections, and find none. Hesitantly, my fingers reach for my skull. 

​