FlatlineI can't breathe It's so coldI'm drowning I can't seeThe light's fadingWhere am I?Who knows I can't hearSirens scream in my ears,Wrapping their fingers around my throatI shout and yell Only to hear silence once againI'm sinking Deeper, darkerUnknown I'm bruised, brokenThe breakers, they're comingThey've always held my handBut now they're letting goI gasp for air as blood fills my lungsI cryMy eyelids feels heavyMy throat is soreThe pulse from my chest grow slowerDarkness surrounds meHope is dimI'm gone
That Child - 1.5-- "IT" --I don't know him anymore. He's not the same "kiddo" he used to be. Who are you now?...Why do I even bother. He can't hear me anymore, can he?He's not the same. He's different.Not because he hugs his torn, tear-stained teddy bear to his chest and needs a night light on 24/7 or he'll start wailing. The fact that there are demented drawings that seems to be drawn by a 3 year old child scattered across the room makes no difference. Only thing that was unsettling was his continuous and seemingly endless stare at a plain, blank wall, standing still before him. His eyes are hollow. He mutters quietly, softer than a whisper, in a language that I, and most likely anyone else, don't, or will ever know. From what I can see, he's only the cold, lifeless shell of my dear ol' "kiddo." Other than that, there's nothing left. Nothing left of him. What are you now?...He giggles. No, not "he", "it.""What are you, what do you see
LessonsIn forty-seven minutes I will be twenty-one years old and my throat is tight with this notionthat every passing moment is a boat taking me further from the boy on the side of the road.I am terrified of the swelling tide of time, the ripples I will create,the creases that will be etched into my facewithout the laughter lines I know he would have left andone day someone will ask me how many siblings I have and I will hesitatebecause he will be so distant and I can feel it coming.I never intended to swim without him, butI am drowning under the weight of pocket-stone-people,the ones I love who he has never met and won't ever meetand its forty-four minutes until I turn twenty-one when I realize the relentlessness of this;how I will age away from him and I am disgusted with myself, with his ashes on the bookshelf,with this world that keeps making mistakes that can't be fixed.Twenty one years old and I am a semi-colon, a shuddering pause on the floor,remembering the time I broke
.my heartbecomesa madmantakingan axeto its ownbody
beautiful.i hate my stretchmarksthe vertical the horizontal the ones running miles down my armsstripes on a circus tentmy body is a freak show75 cents a ticketthey are the bars on a cagetrapping me inside this prison cell of flesh (not letting me run away from all i once was)reminding me that i am still that little girl who was told that she had toomuch weight in her stomachand in her thighs to be called beautifulmy stretchmarks are the debris from when i tried to collapse upon myselftried taking up less space because beautiful is small beautiful is skinnydiets upon dietsbecause i've been told thati am only worth the sharpness of my collarbone
why i never wrote you a poem.last summer i triedto use the words that you fell asleep toto write you a love song butevery time i triedmy fingers froze up.i failed the test of describing youin a paragraphin a sentencein a wordbecausethere is nothing in my head adequate enough(worthy enough)to describe how you lookon the train station platformwhen you smile at me.i can tell you thatmy heart climbs into my throat andmy body prickles with heat andeverything disappears, for just a moment, butthe thing i cannot describeis you.your mouth caresses my namelike it’s the most beautiful soundit’ll ever know,like it understands me perfectly,but you,you are not made of verses.you have no meter.you are not written in stanzasthat i understandand i find myself captivatedat how beautifully complexyour language is.you say i’m the mesmerizing one, but, baby,you've stumped me.you have left a girl,a writer,a person who wants to build their lifewith words,speechless.
girls that photosynthesizeI.i asked my mother to buy me sweetener,and she said "no," and she said "no,sugar is better for you it's more natural"so i shrug and i clamp my teeth over my tongue and sew my mouth closedand i steal sweet n' lowfrom the pizza placeII.my friends watch me pick at my lettuce,a rabbit-food-lunch that makes me sickto my stomach, and when i run to thebathroom during science class theyfollow me and ask what i ate for breakfast.i say "waffles" because they can't knowi won't let them stop meIII.my therapist asks me if i think i'm sickand i'm not, i'm strong, but i can't benot here not here, and the $$$$$$$$are ticking away as i consider my answerso i say "yes" and she asks me whati will become and i say "better"because that's all they want to hearIV.my dietitian sets up a rough meal planand she says i won't gain weight on itsomehow i trust this woman with arton the walls of her office and i pickthrough the day in corn-kernel bites,
Dear Homophobic ParentsDear homophobic parents,How the fuck do you think it makes me feelWhen you walk out of the room cryingBecause you can’t stand the thought of something I can’t control.I’ll tell you that it makes my insides burn.The living room feels like a closet.Suffocating, and yet I can breathe fine.I am choking on the air,Polluted by your homophobic slurs.You’re hypocrites.Making uneducated guesses about things you know nothing about.Someone ought to teach you to look shit upBefore you go about, shouting your false claims to the world.My very existence is an error.Some messed up chemical defect that went wrong,I don’t belongAnywhere.I am the Titanic,To you I am supposed to be perfectAnd unsinkable.I am supposed to be straight, and happy, and fine.But I am so very far from fine,When my lungs are filling up with water,Your words are an ice berg,And I am sinking fast.
Why I DanceI dance as if I am sick,And the movement is medication.As if getting up in the morning just to practice is the only motivationTo stay awake.Because well- worn soft shoesFeel like home.The world is cold, and lonely.But when I dance, there is a fire inside my heart, warm and lively.I feel like a bird,Like I am able to fly as high as I want.Gravity, I tauntAs I laugh in its face.Because the Earth was never a placeFor me.Because leaping across dance floors,Allows me to soarHigher than I could in my dreams.Hard shoe dances make me feel powerful.Like a raging storm at sea.My stamps, and clicks are crashing waves.But I am also the sea breeze.Strong and graceful.When I dance I feel like I am tradingSecrets with the universe.My head is clear,And my will power is strong.I am a force to be feared.On bad days,The rhythms of hard shoes sound like a heart- beat.A life line.And I’ll dance until my feet bleedJust to feel something.Because dancing is the only thing
A Letter to the Girl who Hates her BodyA letter to the girl who hates her body.A letter to that girlWho scrolls through tumblr.Admiring all of those models.With thigh gaps that look cute with skirts.And a waist that you can barely see.You're beautifulA letter to the girlWho looks at models,For their curves.The way their hips go outwardsAnd their size D cup breasts.You're beautiful.Please don't look in the mirror,And hate the girl you see.That girl is youAnd she should be loved unconditionally.Because you deserve love.And how much love is not determined on your waist size,Whether you're chubby or skinnyYou're still so very pretty.You're so perfect.So for every time you look in that mirror.And tell yourself you aren't worth it.That you're arms are too big,Your hips aren't big enough.Stop.Tell yourself.I am a woman.A lady.I am strong.I have a body like a castle.A kingdom made just for me.And I will not destroy that castle,By trying to starve myself.By taking brick by brick and dismantling it
WeightWeightThere is a weightYou asked me to hold.(Just for a while,Just for a while.)My tendons strain and snap,I lack your Atlas strength.The crushing force of gravityMakes me weak, makes me sore.Take it back, take it back,But you’ve gone away.I’m sinking down, I’m sinking down.The water rises to my throat.Pushing down, rising upDrowning and drowning and drowning.Take it back, please take it back,Where have you gone?I’m pinned beneath this weight,With water to my nose.My lungs fill up with salt,Choking and screaming and breathingOnly freezing thickness of water.Where is that mild friend oxygen?Where has he gone?My stinging eyes are blind here.I cannot to escape, unwillingTo shed this leaden snareWherein I dwell confined.By You.I grip it tightly.Surely I will die,Sweet air has left my bloodcompletely.I lay back and let black water take me,Frozen fingers loosen on Your weight.And all at onceit falls awaycompletely.I watch i
TearsDon't cryYou have friendsYou have familyYou have loveDon't cryYou have shelterYou have foodYou have waterDon't cryYou have everything you needDon't cryFor there's still hope