Lost hair-am bold soon,lost bone mass-fracture when I sneeze,lost friends-well..had no to begin with,lost muscle mass-cannot stand,lost ***** functions-they teamed up and decided to strike,lost years-twenty to be correct,lost the ability to chew-the jaw bone gave up,lost dreams- only nightmares remained,lost strength- not capable to move my head from the pillow,lost weight-it is the same as the weight of a puppy,lost  brain cells-obviously otherwise I would not pursue self destruction ,lost sleep-kept awake by hunger,,lost my period-so no little baby girl Hazel,almost lost life multiple times…lost the promise of a bright future.

There in the field she came to me,
The last of the silver honeybees.
I could see the years worn in her face,
Lost in the dark, one foot in the grave.

She held the ache behind her eyes,
So young to have her throat closed tight.
Poor girl, an orphan, with ribs of steel
Bone cage laced too tight to feel.

Then came the lonesome cosmonaut,
Betwixt the stars, those years he lost;
A nomad’s tale, nor here nor there
Too high up to come down for air.

Celestial darlings, they go round and round,
Dysphoric we hasten the final burnout:
From birth to evanesce, the hedons expire
Would love rot my teeth for afflictions less dire?

Last came the poet, out from the gloam
******* on pennies, and ink soaked through bones.
She gathered her strength and fell from the sky
While friends in high places twinkled goodbye.

And I reach my finger so far down my throat as if I'm fishing,
I can never seem to catch anything besides sea sickness.
A whole ocean pouring from my mouth,
the saltiness burns as it comes up.
The waves are violent, as if they are trying to knock me all the way down to the bottom.
Cement fills my head dragging me down even faster.
And I'm stranded on this island,
I sit here thinking that this is going to be what finally kills me.
I continue to starve,
almost as though I'm used to it already.

all the voices in my head
never shut up
they tell me I should be dead
i believe them, im ****** up
i watched my parents fight a lot as a kid
they got a divorce after i grew up
i thought itd break me but im glad they did.
i think i’ll always be depressed
its been years i felt like this
i smoke **** to give me happiness.
my brother tried to **** himself twice
I want to die too
but he survived so i guess so should i.
still every day i cry.
i sound like a loser
i look at old pictures of myself as a kid
i dont recognize her, i guess i did lose her.
not sure where to go from here
all my friends and i moved away
we dont talk anymore besides the occasional “hey”
no one knows me anymore
nothing in my current life is like what i knew before.
the place i live is not my home
the people i know are temporary fixes
to the empty holes that my emotions burn through my heart.
i wish i could bleed
but i dont want to get put on mental health leave
so my skins stays uncut and i stay silent.
all this pain i keep quiet.
i starve myself as an outlet
it gives me control over myself
since my emotions are reigned by hell.

I’m sick of the sads,
The come and go blues,
Tired of depression,
It’s becoming old news.

I’ve got the melancholy
Lodged deep in my bones.
It follows me everywhere,
So I hide all alone.

I’m exhausted of existence
That demands my great strength.
I’m out of ignition
And my apathy stretches at length.

This pattern starts at the beginning of October.
It stays through the winter,
I am like the weather,
Cold, gray, and bitter.

I’m sick of the sads,
These come and go blues,
The yearly cycle of moods,
I keep falling for the ruse.

I am sick of the sads,
Tired of depression,
Clinging to my sanity
Through its brutal oppression.

I am sick of the sads
That make it difficult to respire.
I pray for the end,
Lest my body simply expire.

The come and go blues
Have ruined my desire
For anything else.
I am consumed by my internal Hell’s fire.

I am sick of the sads,
These come and go blues.
By the time spring arrives,
I’ll be battered and bruised.

I’m sick of the sads.
Someone liberate me.
Send help on high horses,
Or sad is all I will be.

I know you want to hurt me
Convince me I was wrong
But honey I am certain
Ive become far too strong

I gave you every chance
You didn't give a ****
Took you out the depths of hell
You crawled right back in again

I sorted through our ashes
To find our missing pieces
I gave them all to you
Hoping you'd solve your puzzle
Hoping you'd change the tide
What the **** happened
To breaking the cycle
To end it all with you and I

I hear every tear that falls
But you're so far in your denial
You won't pick up the calls
So keep sharing all this nonsense.
Keep pretending that you're fine
I'll be here always
When it comes that time.

TW : eating disorder, suicide attempt, abuse

In my phone
There’s a contact name that’s just swear words
The occasional bad bad word that I can say in therapy but don’t in public
And it’s my mom’s contact name
I changed it after our 1millionth fight
Right before I left for uni
Because she called me fat
And at the time I was five months sober of my eating disorder
Maybe sober isn’t the right word but whatever
And my brain snaps
I scream and cry
She screams back at me
I call her “fat” back because I’m mad
And I spend the night sobbing
I even call my abusive dad who chose to leave therapy because he thinks he’s getting better
He hasn’t left his girlfriend who restricted food from me yet so, are you sure Dad?
And he tries the whole facetime while I audibly cry to not sound mean about her
And I thank him for trying in my head
Because my mom only refers to him as slurs or Satan
I eat the entire cake she got me in the fridge the next day
Before even noon
I feel bad immediately after but at least she can’t have any
And then I’m suddenly jealous that she didn’t have any
So no weight gain
I drink two cups of iced coffee with that extra calorie Starbucks syrup
And then my sister gets me Popeyes
She gets me this after yelling at our mother
Because we don’t really talk that much openly
But we both have our own scars from her words
Mine developed into eating disorders, cuts on my legs, and just general mental illness
Hers just developed into being a rock solid wall
When my mom comes home and sees me eating
She takes a bite

I'll be getting old and still
trying to make this body bearable
covering it in tattoos
painting its nails
manically
sickening looking
for proof of its monstrousness
in candid photos
starving it and then
filling it

Or even worse,
not being able to do anything
to make it anything else
than what it is

I never wanted this.
I never wanted this hell upon me but she just grabbed me in her cold bony arms. She hugged me so tight and she would not let go. I am so **** cold. I cannot move anymore. I cannot run. She is eating my soul and my body away. Her lifeless cold eyes seemed so warm to me. She was my friend and my lover. She played me over and dragged me into this wretched hole. Thoughts would repeat all over_
I am fat
I am fat
I am fat
I believe her words. She brain washed my brain thinking into it that she is always right. She must be.

I used to think that ****** was the same as *****,
And therefore I was both broken and unclean.
I have learned that you can wash the blood off
And cast out the stains of yesterday’s misfortunes
That I may kneel before you and tell you
That I am still sacred in my own skin.