When I picked up my pen
I wanted to write about comets
and galaxies and forest fires and whirlwinds
I wanted to write about
the way my morning coffee
resembled your dark brown eyes
I wanted to write about the way
my mother’s mascara and lipstick smeared
on the nights my father promised he would come home
but didn’t
I wanted to write about the beach;
how my thoughts were like the immensity of the ocean
and my joy was like the sand
how I let it slip right through my hand
I wanted to write about the way
you were like my cigarettes
and wondered why I loved
everything that destroyed me
I wanted to write about the way
the smell of your cologne lingered on my pillow long after you left
And how I found someone new
but still fell asleep to the thought of you
I wanted to write about the numbness;
the crippling way I felt nothing
and everything at the same time
I wanted to write about every thought I’d ever had,
To drown my demons in ink
And immortalize the act on paper
But when I picked up my pen,
I had a shaky hand
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
I got two hours of sleep last night
No, it wasn’t because I was working on the essay that was due today
I couldn’t care less about the essay
Actually, I could
Because I care too much about everything
and that’s why I was up all night
I’ve spent countless sleepless nights worrying about every moment that’s gone wrong
Wincing about every word I stuttered over
Analyzing every glance I received
And it makes me wake up with bruises underneath my eyes
My mom didn’t make me go to school today, even though she knew I should
She wants to scream at me to get out of bed, to do something with myself
But I think my empty stare and my cheeks stained raw like a ripe pomegranate
stop her from making me do anything
I haven’t washed my hair in three days
The thought of leaving my room ties a knot in my stomach that can’t be undone
And why doesn’t my dad understand
That I don’t feel like dragging my body around because it’s as if it’s a bag of sand?
My doctor told me that I have anxiety
headaches
trembling
nausea
lightheadedness
trouble swallowing food
excessive, o n g o i n g worrying and tension
difficulty concentrating
trouble falling asleep
or
staying
asleep
I didn’t get to sleep tonight
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
Bats, spiders, and rats form on my tongue
they crawl down my throat and live in my lungs
Cobwebs, moths, and dirt course through my veins
they nestle in my brain and make me insane
The flowers I've spent months watering start to wither away
Why did you lie when you said it would all be okay?
These weeds inside me were born from idiosyncrasies
And they make it way too hard to ******* breathe
My skull is cracked, bones are shattered, it leaves me scarred
This garden looks more like a graveyard
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC