There are no seats for me on the MRT
Dark blue for the priority seats
But no seats for the blue body that carries me
The blue mind
The blue mind that made me consider suicide
Yesterday
The blue mind made me consider suicide
Today
I still managed to be alive
Barely living
Struggled but finally got out of the door
Just to go to school
I am barely alive
I have died a million times
resurrected just as many
Yet
There are no seats for me on the MRT
When I missed my meals three days in a row
When I stayed in bed and it was a world’s distance
From my bed to the door
When I stared at the ceiling in darkness three days in a row
Today,
I am still perishing,
But I got out of the door
and tried my best to go to school
But the dark blue priority seats
are not for the dark blue mind
is my mental health not a priority?
Is my existence not a priority?
The lady next to me asked if I was sick,
Because I sat on the dark blue seat with my dark blue mind
I replied “yes”
She said,
“doesn’t seem like it.
You look young and healthy”
Invisible,
My dark blue is invisible
My scars are invisible
I fight with my Illness every day
And every moment
Yet when I am feeling my worst
When I barely have the strength to live
When I am broken into a thousand pieces
When I am just trying to go to school
There are no seats for me on the MRT
Butterfly Poetry 