"Why do you only wanna talk about the problems with public school and suicide?"

Because the blood in the restroom stall,
And the ghosts that walk the halls,
Are only increasing in numbers.

I don't like being alone.
Rays of kitchen light,
Beaming down on lime flavored tortilla chips,
With mild salsa,
That's still,
Too hot!

Or cheap tea,
Flavored with lemon and crystalizing honey,

I do not like being alone,
Stacking,
Molasses cookies,
On my shaky finger tips,

I do not like being alone!
Shaky, shaky,
Three,
Round plates,
Stacked on top of one another,
And I'm not saying I have a standard,
eating disorder,
But when I am depressed,
And,
Alone,
I just,
Don't,
Get,
FULL.

No I don't think I'm fat,
I love my body,
And I'm not over weight,

But my stomach,
Is the new home,
To the black hole in my mind,
It's fine,
I say,

You don't know how many plates today,

And it's not every day,

But I find myself stealing snacks,
The way people steal kisses,

Enjoying meals hot or cold,
Instead of going in the snow,

For if i lept into turning waters,
Like people leap for love,

Or if my mind,
Got that black back,
Transferred from my stomach,
You,
Wouldn't be the only thing crushing.

"Whats anxiety like?"





Sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe.

I've had bad days for as long as I can remember,
Anxiety, loneliness and depression swirling in my head.

(You might think loneliness and depression are the same but that's not true, loneliness is just a SYMPTOM of depression)

I used to have good days,
Light,
Days,
Where it didn't hurt as much,
Any more,
But these bad days come back,
And the came,
And they stayed,
For weeks at a time,
Anxiety had me mumbling,
"I'm fine"'s

(The actual act of being 'fine' is something I've never had the privilege of experiencing)

I got so many bad days,
My therapist,
(Along with my mother)
Tried to convince me they weren't,
ALL bad.

So,
I'm depressed, turned into:
The weather,
And, I'm alone,
Turned into:
Call your friends!
And,
I'm suicidal,
Turned into:
Philosophical.

I don't think you understand...

That this plan,
Of telling me my feelings aren't real,
Or that I shouldn't feel what I feel when I'm feeling it.
Isn't helping me,
Or saving me.
Because I remember being 12,
In an emergency room,
With death on my mind,
And burns on my wrist,
Being told,
I couldn't be admitted to a mental ward,
Because they only accept 13 year olds,
That, the qualifications,
Where there,
That I wanted to die,
But You were,
Just to young,
To be feeling,
What you were feeling,
When you were feeling it.

What are these roads?
We've walked them before

Your love is a pain,

I wish to endure

Breathe,

I have so many reasons to be alive.

Breathe,

But I get tired.

Breathe,

I don't think I scare myself anymore.

Breathe,
Just,
Breathe


quiet car rides,
On starry nights.
Warm seats,
Cool air,
Mildly,
Unwashed
Hair.

It's late,
And,
I'm tired.

But.
Im.
Still.
Alive.
And.
In.
My.
Own.
Time.
I,
Might even learn,
To enjoy it.

it's valentines day
and there's this boy

he's got blue eyes
wears olive green
and this monogrammed
color pooled scarf in
red heart mexicana
that his grandma knit

(i'm also wearing olive
green with denim and
lace -- a skirt?? but
diggity **** he's looking!
i picked this outfit not
knowing it was the precise
shade of green made for
storming beaches on v-day)

i've been making his
espresso since last august
but today he came around
the back of the counter
to make it and chat so
i gave him some pie

...pie
many successful
relationships have
started with pie

(mental note: 2/14/17, 11:30
underbaked coconut custard)

it might be the 8oz
***** chai with
three shots espresso
making my stomach
flitter or it might be
him not the oven

that's got my cheeks
spotted with lightly
browned freckles and
cinnamon flavored blush

(he's a cook
i'm a baker
doesn't that
work somehow?)

***** it
now i've got a
heart shaped
pink polka dotted
sugary royal icing
cookie cutter crush.

A long ways off a wolf howls into the wood,
But their is no call back.
He howls again, the despair in his call echos back in the crying of song birds

The song they sing is picked up and repeated into the world.
A song so full of pain that people crumple to their knees in soundless agonie.

The wolf howls again,
Challenging the moon as to whome,
Whome is more alone in the universe,

The lonely one who travels the sky,
Or the broken one who has known company but for folly now goes without.

Even the moon grows colder with the grief of the wolf.

The wolf makes its own path around the world.
Where their isn't a trail he creates one,
The ground underneath being crushed with the weight of a heavy heart.

He searches the world,
Echoing his desperate howl across all seven seas.
Hoping someday to find,
Where his beloved does lie.
His howl replaced as a broken cry.

What do you do
when you realize
you're the aftermath
of someone's abuse?

It was written in the subtleties,
not the clear skin on your face.

You find it etched inside
of a voided smile.

The byproduct
of back handed remarks.

You stayed home
convinced yourself
you weren't really lonely.
But when you went out
you were made to feel the same.

Second guessing became
second nature.
Proving yourself worthy
became a personality trait.

It's not always clenched fist
or hit and run

It's a quick wit
and a razor tongue too.

The kind of love
that makes you
question the lengths
you've walked in life.

Makes you think
the only way is stay put
or go backwards.

The green eyed monster
turned you pale again
and you don't see
yourself in the mirror anymore.

Only someone who paints
her face with a smile
and tells everyone she's okay.

But the aftermath
is still just as deadly.
and your eyes feel sore
from trying to see
the good in things.

It's not always black eye
and a pain in your head.

If the flags read red-
then run.
No matter how far
you have made it.