When your child sleeps for 16 hours do not call them lazy; ask them if they are feeling alright and do not accept that they're "fine".
When your child skips dinner do not just assume it's a diet, sit them down and ask why they are not eating their favorite meal and don't let them convince you that they are not hungry because odds are they're famished.
When you see scratches and burns and bruises and cuts on their body I hope to god you don't look the other way, I hope you hold them tight and tell them how much you love them.
When your child begins skipping classes and asking to stay home do not yell at them, climb in bed with them and ask them what is going on at school.
When your child eats 3 helpings of food and snack after snack after snack I hope you don't think this is normal and I hope you ask your child what is troubling them and I hope you tell them they're beautiful.
When your child pulls away from you and shuts you out and starts destroying themselves I hope to god you don't think it's a "phase" and I hope to god you take on your job as a parent to try and understand and love them, do not tell them to "grow up" because odds are that's the exact problem.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
you're different in the way
that when I took
my make up off
you looked at me
the same way you had
when lipstick coated my lips,
and concealer covered my flaws.
you're different in the way
when my shorts were
a bit too short
you still stared
into my eyes,
and then
you slept in an
old recliner just so
I wouldn't feel alone.
you're different in the way
that when you look at me
I don't feel like I'm being judged
and every flaw pointed out;
I feel like I'm being looked over
like a work of art in a museum
you're different in the way
that you grin at me
like a giddy child
and look at me
in a way he never did;
not at my body,
but into my soul
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:33 AM UTC
Christmas was your favorite.
You sang Christmas carols,
and gave me kisses
on the tip top of my head
on Christmas morning.
And with the Santa hat
on top of your head
and coffee in your mug,
you told me that
you were thankful for me
and I should've told you
I am grateful for you too.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Back then
I fought my demons,
and ate my food
like a good girl,
for you.
Because you always looked worried,
asked me why I didn't eat,
you told me I was beautiful
and made me feel it too.
But then you stopped trying,
I don't know why,
but my guess is that
you don't have to worry
about her eating habits,
or stress yourself
or bend over backwards
to make sure she's healthy
because she is normal.
I stopped eating again,
for so long after that.
But I'm back on my own two feet
and I eat all my meals,
I choke it down and move on and
I'm slowly getting better.
But this time it's not thanks to you.
I'd been eating for you,
but I can't remember why.
Now it's different,
I eat for my mom,
she loves me.
I eat for my grandma,
she makes the best food.
I eat for my papaw,
he would hate to see me this way.
But most of all,
I eat for me;
I eat for my body;
I eat to live.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 7:14 AM UTC
Written by: David & Sherri Phelps
She was like the roses in the garden,
a timeless work of art in crimson shade.
But like each bud that opens up to wither,
her perfume ebbs away, her scarlet color fades.
He was like wildflowers in the springtime.
He never cared too much about where he grew,
his time was brief, but filled with vibrant passion.
Then he rode a breeze away,
as wild flowers often do.
And I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.
She was like a daisy in the meadow,
a welcome smile that's shared between two friends.
Kisses hugs and laughter were her petals,
and she have them all away,
until her seasons end.
And I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.
One day I will see, in that garden fair,
those who wait for me over there.
I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.
Blooming on the other side.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
I used to sit in my room
and wish that I would not
wake up in the morning.
I used to think about
how nice it would be
to not breathe anymore.
I use to stand at the curb
debating on stepping out
in front of a speeding car.
I used to look to the medicine cabinet
and pour out all the sleeping pills,
and maybe I would take them.
I used to think about death,
until I saw the little girl I love the most,
fight for life and watched it slip away from her.
She helped me understand,
helped me appreciate
what a privilege it is to breathe
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
Mama used to cry,
in her bed at 2am,
when her relationship
was falling apart at the seams.
Mama used to reminisce,
how she planned her future to be,
married with her children,
happy as an author.
Mama used tell me,
about how he missed the holidays,
and how he didn't call
the night her brother died.
Mama used to try,
she loved him so she stayed.
But even the strongest people
can only take so much.
Mama used to cry,
up late at 2am;
but now she's fast asleep,
after kissing her Prince Charming goodnight.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
The first night you told me
all about your last
failed suicide attempt;
we cried,
we kissed,
I tried to help
but you never got better.
But for someone fighting
their own demons,
you had no trouble
telling that boy
that no one would miss him
if he were gone.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
I'd always loved the way your black hair touched the tip of your ears so barely,
and you'd brush it out of those big brown eyes that sparkled in the sun.
You may not have had the smile of a model,
but it was my favorite sight that I could think of.
And the way you touched me, not even provocatively,
but the way our fingers intertwined,
the way you'd put your hands on my face
or the back of my neck
when we kissed.
Oh my, you kissed like it was the only thing keeping you to this earth;
so addicting,
so refreshing;
so eager
yet so patient.
And maybe the thing I loved the most
was the way you would let me call you
Nickolas.
But that summer we spent was frozen over
and buried by the lovers you've had in your bed
since our times.
Drugs and *** became your passion,
while mine became crying in my room,
and burning my skin.
You shaved off your hair, your eyes are so dull.
She traces lines on your body that I once drew.
But I see the way you kiss her and it's not the same,
I remember the way you looked at me
the last time we talked.
The way you hugged me when I was on the verge of breaking down,
in the middle of the cafeteria.
Maybe our time together was not in vain,
maybe we'll be together,
in another life.
But then again I could be wrong, for when I called you Nickolas;
you flatly replied,
"It's Nick."
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
I remember that fall,
I was seven years old,
you were 6 feet tall
and I hugged your legs.
The leaves were changed
but we stayed the same,
you may have aged
but we were both young at heart.
I remember that fall,
I was twelve years old,
you were still so tall,
and now I hugged your waist.
We sat by the fire, like every other year,
you told me a scary story,
the first and last I'd ever hear
in your deep, soothing voice.
I remember that fall,
I was fourteen years old.
You were just as tall,
but so, so thin.
There was not a hair on your head,
instead a tumor resting in there.
You smiled but you wished you were dead,
and you couldn't enjoy the season with me.
I remember that fall,
I was sixteen years old.
You're not here at all,
and I am not okay.
It's nearly two years,
everyone else enjoys their days;
but I still shed the most tears.
Fall is no longer a place for laughter;
only horrific memories.
It's summer now,
I'm eighteen years old
and nothing's how it was at all.
You'd be so proud of me.
I've made new friends,
I'm working now and I'm happy.
She is too, I know you're wondering.
I still miss you every day,
but at least time has taught me
how to continue on this way.
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC