My eyelids seem
to be the strongest part of me.
When the rest of my body
falls
into the ocean
of blankets they
float open upon the white water
atop
the waves of sleep.
This is when you come back.
In this mattress I am a piece
of clay and I can still feel the deep indentations of where your fingers
wrapped themselves like Ivy around my hips.
Hips, that stuck out like white flags of surrender and
fell to the ground in a straight line.
I can still hear
you.
I am a broken record,
and your whispers are the only track that plays at this hour.
“You are fat”
“Look at how flat you are Emma, no boy will ever look at you.”
“You are ugly.”
These are the nights when I can
feel the spiderwebs your words wrapped around my ribs and
listen to the way my heart beats constricted
in its cage, your hand still clenched around it.
Can’t you see me bleeding?
Safety lies
beneath my eyelids but you pull them open
I can feel
your icy touch behind my eyes as I stare
coldly at the ceiling.
you demand to be heard.
Did you mean to put your words
in my pocket when you reached in to steal the sleep that was nestled there like crumpled dollar bills?
Do you realize that you stayed with me?
Can you take your stolen midnight hours back and place them on your pillowcase?
Will your eyelids close?
Or can you still hear my cries of protest as your soundtrack plays into the night?
I don't understand?
Did you think it wouldn't hurt me?
Or did you want to live forever,so you put your
fingerprints where you knew they wouldn't fade.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
Would it tear you apart to know that I was clean for so long.
Would it tear you apart to know that the the number is back to zero.
Would it hurt if I told you how you woke up those monsters inside my head that all steer me towards steep cliffs of insanity.
Would it hurt you to know that I stepped off.
Would you cry knowing that you choosing her broke me.
Would you cry if you saw my shattered bones spelled your name.
No I don't think it would.
My screams are not silent, they are carved into my body, they erupt from my eyes but baby you never were one to notice how my heart bled for you.
Our love was a metaphor written in a language you didn't understand.
maybe you need to learn to read.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
you don't have to buy expensive things
you don't have to be skinny
and you don't have to show it off
you don't have to be taken
you don't have to tell why you're single
you don't have to wipe your tears,
and you don't have to be like the ones who put them there
you don't have to love someone
you don't have to love yourself
you really don't have to
the only one who's making you,
is yourself.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
as a child
i thought i was unstoppable
as a child
i told myself that i would always be proud
as a child
i said that no one could hurt me
as a child
i thought that i could tell anyone everything
as a child
i told myself that i would never care about the size of my body
as a child
i thought love was only powerful, not destructive
as a child
i said that i could never lie to myself
but as a human
i should have been prepared to know that i would let myself down
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
she stands still
with her eyes steadily
tracing the whisps of
air that circle in front of
her
her hands quivering
and yet her vision is so
solid
dense, cold memories
are leaning at the tip of
her tounge
but her lips won't budge.
she hears the words
letter by letter-
they just don't get why
she can't just 'socialize'-
why she's so independent
she's so quiet
she's so isolated-
but what i don't get is that
you dare to label her "shy"
and yet you don't even know
what she's hiding from
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
and somewhere in-between
i'm okay and it's fine
i lost myself.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
you don't understand-
i can't help that i'm skinny.
a stick that looks useless,
curves small to secure pity.
you don't understand-
its hard to maintain weight.
the food won't add on,
no matter how much i ate.
you don't understand-
i have so many flaws.
freckles galore, and
dark vains that resemble claws.
i'm trying to tell you, yet
you can't understand.
"you're so lucky you're skinny"
but,
"it ***** you can't tan"
surely you'd know by now,
i'm fragile but strong.
i can take all your pity,
but my "luck"- not for long.
i may be skinny and as short
as can be,
but tell me you understand,
before you say you want to be
me.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
Dear thickness,
Dear bold flesh I call shelter of leg,
protection for this body I call home
Dear thighs.
You are more important than you think
more crucial than you've been told
more space than I know what to do with and
more vocal than most other girls' quiet but
your prominence is nothing to hide
your existence is not an apology ready to be given,
your presence does not want to be covered
the way you suffocate yourself into a pair of jeans is
a talent unlike any other
or on hot summer days when skin comes out to
kiss itself between your graces
leaving marks as evidence
what some would call chub rub,
I call magic,
an inability to resist touching,
Thighs.
You never let clothing,
or temperature,
or weather come between you
you are passionate lover,
the proud I always strive to be
the unapologetic beauty I wish was all of me
you maintain the confidence I have to dig for to find within myself
you have so much potential built into the many layers of thick
I cannot tell you enough how important it is
Some say you save lives and
I would have to agree
but still
I know that there have been times when I have neglected you
moments where I have been blind in acknowledging your worth
It is not an easy feat to love the parts of yourself we are taught from
such an early age to hate
magazines have always said be small while
you have always aimed for big
trends tell you to grow in when
all you've ever wanted is to grow out and
expand into a galaxy built of freckles and skin,
you are human as human as gets
I have made you into a warzone on more than
one occassion and for that I am sorry
I am sorry
for more than one reason
I am sorry that this world has twisted your greatness into embarrassment
I am sorry that people have tried to make an apology out of your density
I am sorry that we live in a society that keeps telling you to shrink
I am sorry for all of the times I have wanted you to.
It has taken me years to be thankful for your holy,
you are the answer to my every prayer for health
you are living proof of survival,
Thighs.
This is my proclamation of appreciation
This is my asking forgiveness
I never meant to make you feel anything but needed
Thighs.
you were not made to be thin
you were not meant to be shy
you were built to be the loudest voice in every room
head turning, eye catching, without remorse
you are never silent
even when I am
and for that,
I love you.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
put your phone down
quit it with the selfies
i know those smiles aren't real
put that cancer bringing stick away
talk to me instead
i'll listen to what you have to say
let me be like the pillow
you whisper your dreams to
when no one else is around
let me be your friend
i only ever see you at parties
but i notice
i noticed the scars
and i noticed the bruises
and with every one out the door
when it's all finally over
i notice how you always stay behind
to help clean up
it's always my friends' parties
they aren't your friends but you help
with you trying to be nice
don't you just want
someone to be nice to you as well?
i can be that person
i will be that person
because i used to be the person you were
battered and everything much worse
but what's really got me irked
and conflicted
is how you can be nice to others
but not to yourself
is why you add trouble to your problems
rather than trying to rid of them
put the phone down
happiness isn't something you can fake
put that stick away
yes, the smoke you puff out
it's beautiful
only because it came from your lips
but remember
stress isn't something you can be free from
those sticks won't help
they could but only for a little while
never permanently
that phone and that stick is not your friend
but i can be
just look at me
talk to me
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
she doesn't talk about
how her dad left
immediately after finding out
about her existence
she doesn't talk about
how her mom ignored
the not so straight lines on her wrists
how she was never confronted
about self harming
why she's so loud
what she doesn't like
and does like
the bottle under her bed
why her curtains are always drawn
so close together
almost as tight as her throat constricts
when she's looked at
how her day's been
she doesn't talk about all that
because she's never asked.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC