m-6Whisper

French

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abrasivewhen she speaks, her voice grates my skin, leaving the pale expanse of my back and shoulders raw and weeping. she’s five foot two and although she’s made of paper, she’s built of titanium and her fingers draw portraits in blood across my neck.

Jun 6, 2013

bitesi try to look in the mirror before i leave but i barely recognize the face staring back. my skin looks too thin for my face and my eyes are not as bright as they used to be. i like the way my ribs ****** through the skin of my torso. / the party is loud and slightly sweaty and no one seems to mind much that i’ve barely said a word and i don’t mind either but i want to go home, home with my soft bed and the quiet dark of my room and home where i can be alone. a girl i haven’t talked to in months nudges me and yells over the music God youre such a ****** with her wide teasing smile as i eat a tortilla chip and she doesn’t know that all i’ve eaten in the past six days is half of a small apple, in tiny precise bites / she doesn’t know

Apr 7, 2014

broken heart, broken bonesyour bones were breaking and you called it love. the life leaked out of your wide grey eyes and your hands trembled and you said it was safe. her foot held you underwater and your lips formed poems of devotion. / i saw the bruises. / i saw the signs.

Jul 23, 2013

childhoodI was always a really ***** kid. Not in a slimy way but I always just liked playing out in the trees even though I’d come home with my knees caked with ****** ***** and my hair tangled with sap that would take days to wash out and I’d have to quietly wash off with the garden hose because there would be Hell To Pay if I tracked mud in the house. It was my solace, mostly, running away into the whispering pines that surrounded my house until I was 13 and our neighbors sold it out to contractors and a family with a boy who liked to torture bugs moved in and that was the end of my hiding place. But until then I knew the fastest way to the river that hardly anyone else ever visited and I knew the best place to hide and I could climb this one fir in three seconds flat and it was wide enough that it would shelter my 9 year old shoulders. I always wore these little blue leather sandals which were a luxury because the rest of the time I had to wear orthopedic shoes because I was born with club feet that still hurt when I run too much. Even though my hands liked to dig in the dirt and I liked to feel the ground under my bare skin I was never really a tomboy. I wore this purple velvet skirt all the time and I wore my blonde hair long enough that I could sit on it. My hair has always been a security blanket for me and it’s still a defining feature now that it curls around my ears in a way that people seem to like. But at the time, pre-puberty it was always long and slightly tangled and my mom would take it in her fist and pull my head back and threaten to cut it off whenever she was angry, which was often, or when I didn’t brush it, which was almost as often. My house felt bigger then, when my chin was doorknob-level and the swings my dad built made you feel like you were flying. Our house was yellow and green and from the gardens and forests around it you could almost picture it being in some movie, some sun-drenched movie from the 70s and with my long wood-colored hair and outdated sandals I would have fit in. I’ve never looked like the rest of my family, who are all thinner, more angular somehow, and their skin was always freckled and rough. My skin has always been so clear you can see the veins running under the surface and my limbs have always been longer, softer, and I was fat for a few years until I stopped eating altogether and suffered over the calorie count of celery versus carrots and would lie in bed with my head spinning and every bone in my body aching. But that was a different time, and as a child I preferred to lie on the warm sidewalk and watch the cars pass and tell myself that if six cars passed before my mom got home I would be safe and today would be a good day. Sometimes five would pass and it would still be a good day, and sometimes ten would pass and it would be one of the worst yet, but it was a childlike game and it comforted me to think I had control over her actions. That was back when hearing the front door open at 7 made ***** rise in my throat and hearing her 160 pound footsteps on the nubbly carpet outside of my room made my body shut down before her hands even touched the door. There was a technique to turning off your mind. I learned this before I could ride a bike and it all came down to two very simple things: close your eyes, and it will be over soon. You just had to wait things out and afterwards you could run to the bathroom and watch the blood pool in the white porcelain tub and it would slide down, slightly foamy, with hot water that burned over the fresh scars that mingled with faded ones in places my own hands could never reach.

Feb 8, 2014

formaldehyde kissesi hope it seared you, / this moment / your lips on mine

Feb 24, 2014

HOROSCOPES FOR SURREALIST WOMEN, PART IARIES: stay away from cats claws and hours past midnight. good day for purple lips and kissing your mothers cheek / TAURUS: your leg hair will grow and it will feel like beauty. you are lost and will not be found and this will feel like being a child again / GEMINI: clocks will move backwards for you today. when his hand catches in your hair, go home with your shoes clutched to your chest.

Mar 12, 2014

HOSPITALIZATIONYOU WILL NOT FALL IN LOVE IN A HOSPITAL, YOUR SKIN WILL SMELL LIKE THE DYING AND YOUR LIPS WILL CRACK AND YOU WILL NOT FIND BEAUTY / I USED TO THINK I WOULD FIND SOLACE IN THOSE SANITIZED WHITE HALLS BUT ALL I EVER FOUND WAS MY OWN EMPTY EYES STARING BACK AT ME FROM THE UNBREAKABLE SUICIDE-PROOF MIRROR AND THERE WAS NO COMFORT IN MY BRUISED TENDER FACE / HOSPITALS ARE NO PLACE FOR YOUNG GIRLS WHO HAVE NOT YET TURNED AWAY FROM LIFE AND THEY ARE NO PLACE FOR KISSING YET YOU READ ABOUT MOUTHS FINDING EACHOTHER IN THE DARKEST HOUR AND YOU THINK OF CEMENT HOSPITAL WALLS; THERE IS NO DARKNESS IN HOSPITALS, JUST PURPLE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS THAT MAKE YOU LOOK SO PALE YOU MIGHT JUST REALIZE THE IMMINENCE OF YOUR OWN DEATH.

Mar 13, 2014

hourglassi am running out of ways to try to get you to kiss me back / your eyelids are very soft and shot with purple veins and they look like the first morning after rain / i am willing to wait

Aug 26, 2014

I filled out a survey about sexuality and I want to save my response-I was raised in a strictly religious household and I privately thought that being gay was okay but I knew that most people in my religious community disagree. I admitted to myself when I was about 17 (I'm 18 now) that I was attracted to girls (I'm also Gray-A, meaning I experience limited ****** attraction) and this year I came out to a few close friends. My parents views on LGBT rights (that is, that "being gay is a choice" and "gays are destroying the sanctity of marriage", etc) influence me heavily, but in a negative way- they make me feel unsafe and I know I can't come out to them now or they might kick me out (my mom told my sister once that if any of us were gay we wouldn't be welcome. she also referenced my trans friend as being 'confused' and things like that). / The 8 or so friends I've told have been accepting but I know they see me differently and I feel uncomfortable telling boys because there's an expectation that lesbians are more inclined to ****** activity (think lesbian **** and are often fetishized, things like that. / I still go to church but it makes me miserable because people hate gays there and make insensitive comments, not realizing that they make me feel pretty terrible for being who I am. I've also suffered from major depression for about 6 years and part of what made it worse throughout junior high and high school was having to suppress my identity and the constant fear I face in my home and community. You never know who's going to hate you, reject you, or even attack you for being gay. The internet (tumblr, mainly) provides a more welcoming community than I find elsewhere so at least I have that forum to express myself.

Mar 20, 2014

ironmy mouth tastes like pennies and your hand is too warm on my thigh under your parents table and i wish you would move it and i know the way you squeeze softly would be attractive to other girls but i am not other girls / i used to read books out loud to you and when i stumbled over words you would stroke my hair and i don’t think you even heard a word i was saying / you say you love math because there is no uncertainty and i think about how i am never a fixed point and i wonder if this is why you’re not always there when i wake up

Mar 27, 2014