They call me inspiration, eyes wide with praise,
A success story, whispered through their haze.
Because I got skinny, the fat girl now gone,
A transformation, they sing from dusk till dawn.
If I had been thin, then illness would be true,
A frailty noted, a sickness they could view.
But I was not thin, and so this shrinking frame
It is celebrated, adorned with a new name.
But I am sick, they simply do not know.
This hollowed core, where the true self cannot grow.
I make myself throw up, the food cannot stay,
Each morsel a betrayal, through the long, slow day.
The stomach churns, a violent, desperate heave,
A silent promise, a secret I believe.
Calories a prayer, a ritual so grim,
Barely eating, yet my spirit grows dim.
The numbers on the scale, they scream and they shout,
A rising terror, casting shadows of doubt.
Each single digit, a weight I cannot bear,
To the toilet I run, a silent, desperate prayer.
This shrinking body, this ghost of who I was,
A public triumph built on a private cause.
They see the victory, a battle bravely won,
But I see only darkness, beneath a clouded sun.
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 1:41 PM UTC
The darkness settled when I was but ten,
A wound that split the world in sudden halves.
The great event, a silence deep and cold,
It stripped away the shelter of my youth.
I stood there stunned, already incomplete.
Then came the voices, sharp, clear, and cruel,
The friends who knew the places where I hit.
They gathered up the stones and cast them hard,
I hear the echo, “I will always hate you.”
They watched the crimson bloom upon my chest,
They turned their backs and left me in the dust.
Abandoned by the ones I thought were mine.
I nursed the story, bitter and aggrieved,
Believing they were heartless and cruel;
The enemy, the creatures who betrayed.
A fragile trust that fractured in the light.
They left me sinking in the heavy mud,
I thought they were the monsters in my tale.
But in the quiet of this vacant room,
The frantic thoughts recede and I can see
The truth behind the shadow of guilt.
It was not them, never them.
They weren’t the villains, it was me.
I pushed myself inside their fragile space,
Dismissing all the sorrows that they held.
I swept aside their feelings with my need,
I forced my clumsy presence on their peace.
I made their small concerns irrelevant.
They simply walked away from what I was.
Now I wear that knowledge like a shroud.
I was the monster, loud and unaware.
The architect of lonely walls I made.
I got the fate that I had rightly earned,
To stand alone and bleed beneath the weight.
This emptiness is justice, sharp and true.
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 1:36 PM UTC
Eleven years, the world began to close,
A sterile screen replaced the schoolhouse door.
My middle years were withered by the pause,
Until fifteen, I knew the world no more.
Four empty springs, the silent house my cell,
A blurred procession of unending days,
My youth surrendered to the passing bell;
I learned strange, unnerving, lonely ways.
I had already known the subtle ache,
The quiet weight of sorrow on my soul,
But isolation made the spirit break,
And darkness swallowed up the fragile whole.
The distance grew, the faces turned to glare
As flickering rectangles upon the wall,
And loneliness was woven in the air;
I felt myself begin the slow, hard fall.
The constant hum, the terrifying dread,
This endless solitude began to sting.
I wished for quiet where the voices fled,
I sought a sudden ending to the thing.
My ragged skin became the fearful map,
A desperate search for feeling still retained,
The sudden sting, the cutting, painful snap,
A secret history that’s now ingrained.
I skipped the careless joy that should be mine,
I wore the heavy burden of the old.
The teenage years were traded for the pine
Of forced maturity, sharp and cold.
My mind began to calculate the cost
Of every day the world remained away,
The little boy I was has been embossed
By trauma that will never go away.
Where is the child I used to wake up as?
That simple boy who trusted in the light?
He’s not here now. I only see the glass
Reflecting back a stranger in the night.
He’s bound in chains, pushed down the crushing pit,
The isolation caged him, fiercely held.
That version of myself I can’t acquit—
He’s deep within the hell that has compelled
This sudden, terrible, adult despair.
He's gone. I cannot find him anywhere.
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 1:34 PM UTC
I woke up today,
Sunlight through the blinds,
But my heart feels heavy,
Like I’m lost in time.
Shower’s running,
Can’t step inside,
Just like brushing my teeth,
I’m fighting to survive.
Texting my best friend,
But the words don’t flow,
All those late-night talks,
Now they feel so low.
I’m just a ghost,
In this room of pain,
Do they even miss me,
Or am I just a name?
I remember our nights,
Dancing in the rain,
Now it’s hard to find,
Joy in all this pain.
I’m scared of being lost,
Or forgotten in the end,
Do I mean something,
Or am I just pretend?
Fading echoes of a laugh I used to know,
A smile's a stranger, just a shadow on my soul.
I reach for connection, but I feel so far away,
Am I just a memory that will fade to gray?
Will I find my way back,
To the light I used to feel?
Or am I just a fading echo,
In a world that doesn’t heal?
I’m screaming out for help,
But my voice is lost in air,
Will someone hear my heart,
And help me feel I’m there?
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 7:58 AM UTC
In the garden where the sun shone bright,
Two hearts fell under that fateful light.
She reached for the fruit with a curious hand,
But wasn’t it Adam who made that stand?
He took a bite, and the shadows fell,
Now pointing fingers, casting spells.
Now she walks with sorrow, wearing the blame,
While he hides in the shadows, playing his game.
With the weight of the world on her delicate frame,
Eve carries his sins, while he plays the same.
Oh, the serpent whispered, but who took the fall?
What if it was Adam? Eve just took the fall.
Adam ate the apple and he blamed it all.
She got all the hate.
She took all his sins.
What if it was Adam, and Eve was innocent.
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 7:55 AM UTC