Nobody

I am nobody.

I am just the one who pushes the camera in the face of the rockstar.
None of it belongs to me—
The cheers or
The stage or
The fans or
The fame—
Nothing except my camera
And the feeling that I will never be somebody.

I am the one who collects trash after the concert.
None of it belongs to me—
The credit or
The thanks—
Nothing except my weighty, misshapen trash bag
And the feeling of a heavier weight inside my misshapen heart.

I am an arrow directing everyone away.
Everything else I point you towards—
Better friends
Quieter places
A better love
(Who we both know is her)—
Anything lighter than me.
You need to get away from me
Because I am fake and gray and heavy.

I am a billboard advertising better billboards.
You don’t want me—
My face or
My laugh or
My brain or
My misshapen heart—
Nothing except the better billboard
That I point towards:
She is the real deal.

She is the rockstar on the stage
And the one throwing the trash.
All of it belongs to her—
The cheers and the credit and
The stage and the thanks and
The fans and the fame and
A normal-shaped heart;
You want everything she has—
Her face and her laugh and her brain.

She is everything.
I am just the one holding the camera
The one collecting the trash
The arrow pointing to her
The billboard advertising her—
Forever a muted reflection of her;
A dull reminder of all that she is;
I could never be her.
She is the light at the end of the tunnel
While I am just the lantern you carry
Until you glimpse her:
The sun.

She is everybody
But I am nobody.

She is the one who makes it all feel lighter.
She is bright as a rainbow—
Pink and orange and
Blue and yellow—
Complementing your emerald green.

She floats, and I sink
Because she is simple, without layers
While I wrap myself up—
Again and
Again and
Again—
In weighted gray blankets.

Turn from her, that golden egg;
Start to see me as a silver cocoon
Or perhaps just a ball at the end of a chain
That you don’t want to get attached to.
In that case,
Stop unwrapping me slowly
Pull the wool back over my eyes
And run.
Leave me in my lonely chrysalis
And embrace that glowing butterfly
Who I always knew
You were going to choose in the end.

After all,
She is everybody
And I—
The foggy mirror
The arrow
The weight—
Am nobody.

Celeste Wilner – Year 12