Some days I feel like the world is spinning.
Like it's going so fast that I can't find up or down.
Most days I feel like I'm falling.
Like I'm the one that's different.
Because I know, sooner or later, I will hit the ground. And everything that I know will cease to be right.
That's when the world starts spinning.
Yet I'm still Emma.
You'll ask me who I am, but you never remember.
I know who Emma is.
Even if nobody else does.
I'm not very good at pretending.
But in the moments when the world spins, I am. It's how I get by.
I pretend someone caught me.
I pretend to be fine.
I pretend you can help me.
I pretend I'm alright.
I see you.
You watch me, take notes, tick boxes.
A recipe for who I should be, but I'm not. I don't make friends because I know that I'm not.
Not going to stay.
Not going to be happy.
Not even close.
Some days I'm drowning. Some days I've drowned.
I've caught glimpses of moments when the world was the right way round.
But I'm always falling, landing hard on the ground.
A car journey to somewhere. Another broken home.
You take my name.
Yet, you call me flight risk.
You call me important.
Yet, you ignore me.
You call me greedy.
Yet, you take all you can from me.
You say your listening.
Yet, you never hear me.
I know who Emma is.
But I wish somebody else knew her for me.