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sophie-kim
Agender/East Coast Free association depression poems. Sorry?
breakfast is the most important meal of the day which is something i would laugh off as my stomach would growl in my nutritions class and i learned to inhale sharply to somehow combat the noise the noise of my stomach screaming to the world in that backstabbing way that i am not eating breakfast nor did i eat much of dinner nor will i want to be able to stomach anything for lunch “i’m completely normal” my eating habits aren’t rapidly fluctuating i’m not sleeping during completely random times of the day trying to sleep off my body’s hunger like i can sleep off frustration (nutrients are a constant need they don’t just stop being things you need because you just don’t want anything in your body anymore) you used to want so much what’s so baffling is that sometimes hunger can feel like the muffled conversation riddled with worry hunger is the knocking on the door telling you that it wants to come in and you don’t want it to but for a reason you know makes no sense but it makes perfect sense in the moment when your brain shakes hands with itself and tells you that eating is for when the work is done when the reward is deserved that a need is a want and needs are intangible things that keep you socially alive rather than actually and then you ask yourself if you, wanting to feel alive is the problem when i don’t eat i am empty i don’t make ****** functions because my body cannot function and when i function, my body is empty and to keep my body empty i do not eat there is no beauty in feeling hollow breakfast is the most important meal of the day which is something i would laugh off as i could barely stand up in a hot shower as i could barely utter a conscious word without overworking my brain my brain that shakes hands with itself to communicate with itself that i do not deserve to eat food i do not deserve to feel alive i want eating to feel normal i want to put priority on food but i cannot bear to feel present but i cannot bear to be present when i do not feel present because i am not present i am not me
0
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
on dissociating and not eating
breakfast is the most important meal of the day which is something i would laugh off as my stomach would growl in my nutritions class and i learned to inhale sharply to somehow combat the noise the noise of my stomach screaming to the world in that backstabbing way that i am not eating breakfast nor did i eat much of dinner nor will i want to be able to stomach anything for lunch “i’m completely normal” my eating habits aren’t rapidly fluctuating i’m not sleeping during completely random times of the day trying to sleep off my body’s hunger like i can sleep off frustration (nutrients are a constant need they don’t just stop being things you need because you just don’t want anything in your body anymore) you used to want so much what’s so baffling is that sometimes hunger can feel like the muffled conversation riddled with worry hunger is the knocking on the door telling you that it wants to come in and you don’t want it to but for a reason you know makes no sense but it makes perfect sense in the moment when your brain shakes hands with itself and tells you that eating is for when the work is done when the reward is deserved that a need is a want and needs are intangible things that keep you socially alive rather than actually and then you ask yourself if you, wanting to feel alive is the problem when i don’t eat i am empty i don’t make ****** functions because my body cannot function and when i function, my body is empty and to keep my body empty i do not eat there is no beauty in feeling hollow breakfast is the most important meal of the day which is something i would laugh off as i could barely stand up in a hot shower as i could barely utter a conscious word without overworking my brain my brain that shakes hands with itself to communicate with itself that i do not deserve to eat food i do not deserve to feel alive i want eating to feel normal i want to put priority on food but i cannot bear to feel present but i cannot bear to be present when i do not feel present because i am not present i am not me
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67
sunflowers lean in the direction of the sun although this sunflower leaned in the direction of the warmth that came from the moon the mysterious light that attracted the flower not from what it was familiar with a new experience and a new way to bend -- although the moon sung with the flower, pampered its petals with faraway words and danced through shadows that felt so close the moon was in the sky the sunflower danced, lone in its own lonely patch the sunflower was the sun of its own danced to its own tune, smiled, laughed was so sure of the world and its offerings but the moon had its own tune a slow, cautious, steady, unsure dance. the sunflower thought to please the moon whenever it could with its own light to dance as the moon's stage and to love but the sunflower could only dance for so long, until a petal fell from its yellow petal crown the sunflower could not evaluate why it danced for its love. it simply had to keep dancing although the sunflower knew that its petals were falling off and the sunflower had bent too far the sunflower had its own frustrations but the moon hurt wherever it shined the moon's songs were so achingly tearful the sunflower hardly had any petals left when the moon began to shine its light in another direction
0
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
unfortunately about a cheating boy (august 2017)
what's that feeling oh what is it what's that feeling of anger compliance fogginess confusion anxiety anxiety anxiety anxiety that feeling of shivering grinding teeth breathing less wanting less (food) food is disgusting but you've hardly eaten since two days you know you need to eat but you can't and you won't and most importantly you want to but you don't because you can't and you won't i am dying i could be dying i could die shivering shaking vibrating my feet are purple from folding them in from folding my body into itself and disappearing shame
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Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 8:53 PM UTC
shame
My body feels like a door that doesn’t fit its hinges My arms feel like with each swing, their sockets are prepared to fall out Like the bones will give out Like the nerves will explode Like the blood will boil And never hold again My legs have been numb from sitting aimlessly for years My eyes have been blind from beauty and precision The feeling of falling Like your body is falling apart The edge of the cliff or the building or the dock or the bridge The feeling of falling Teeth crunching Dental bill “Do you find that you’re grinding your teeth?” Nerves Cavity Nothing Nothing Nothing Nothing Drastic expectations / exaggerations none “We’re just calling in today to mention the eventual termination of your place in this organization.” Body threatening to be pulled by ghosts Ghostly wailing and demonic laughter Astral project Leave Become nothing Become husk Become discarded shell Stagnate Die.
0
Oct 4, 2017
Oct 4, 2017 at 4:18 PM UTC
void of violence
(there's something that steadily builds in the bloodstream of a child with a father who has the temper of a star waiting to burst and to become mellow again similar to death but in silence) when she touches me, my giving hands grow cold when she touches me, my shoulders turn into themselves when she touches me, my feet curl with tension when she touches me, my depleted body turns away her rancid, her caring, her belligerent, her sweet her nothing wishing for the strength to push her down i hate her touching me there's nothing more disingenuous or violent than a hand, too hard, too open, too compensating trying to touch you with warmth that has been lacking for years why touch me now if i know you hate me (you don't hate me) (but i hate you)
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Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:27 PM UTC
when she touches me