Josephine

Josephine Sep 2017

Josephine Sounds to be graceful
Meant to be wore by elegance
Like a pearl necklace my great grandmother wore
It belonged to her just as much as the pearls
But they will never truly fit around my neck beautiful

Josephine is a daisy
Beautiful and loved and delicate
Grown to be beautiful in a garden with roses and tulips
I am a **** growing in a place it is told not to
A garden of strong roses covered in thorns

Josephine may not fit me
But that will not make me any less me
I’m still trying to learn that
I will never truly be josephine
But i will find my own value eventually

Josephine Sep 2017

why

Why is the sweet touch of a blade
Sweeter than a
Memory of my beautiful loving father
Why is the emptiness of my stomach
More filling
Than the thought of being happy
Why is the burn of a scratch caused but my nails
Better than feeling anything
Why is the truth you tell yourself
Worse than the sweet lie you hear
Why is the sweet covers of a sheets
More loving than friends
Why is the silent scream of pain
Coming for me every day
Why do i feel so much ******* pain
Every day is pain and more pain and more pain
But why

Josephine Jul 2017

i miss you

i miss you
i miss your hands
i miss the way they felt in mine
harsh creases in my soft paintbrushes
with scars and worked hands
tan and strong
holding your daughter's

i miss you
i miss the way you sang to me
i miss the way your voice soothed me
your voice carrying me away from the nightmares
with hurt you sang
you didn't want me to have nightmares
so you sang

i miss you
i miss your heart beat
i miss the way you let me sleep on your left
next to your heart
a beat so strong it drowned out mine
mine beats differently because of you
mine beats to be held
to take it all good and bad
to carry hurt and love

i can not sing but i can listen now
listen to the hurt
listen as they sing
listen as the world sings that beautiful song of pain

i can never have strong hands like yours
they will never throw the punches you could
they will be my paintbrushes
held by the memory of a father who loved me once

Josephine May 2017

hands

i dig my nails in the back of my hands
like in digging to feel bone
the bone will shed fat off it
the nails can claw me away
claw me away
dig it out of my skin

i stop right as it bleeds and i hold
i hold like this is me writing love letters to my bone
writing hate comments on my fat
scarring them in

i caught myself starring at scars
caught smiling at bones for hands
just covered in a thin layer of skin
skin covered in hate comments
but not being able to write love letters
my hands and nails have gotten used to scars

i still catch myself digging deeper

i cant stop hating no matter if i hit bone
no matter if i want to write love letters
all i know to do is dig and dig and dig
and the more i dig
the more i claw away
like rotten old me can finally have small hands

Josephine May 2017

Ruby

Ruby
My friend named me Ruby
Like passion and fire red
The kind the artist in me would love to paint across your sadness to make anger

Josephine May 2017

Family and Skinny

Skinny is beautiful
Skinny is the apple core I so desperately want to be
Skinny is the old jeans I wore that used to fit
Skinny is hungry
Every second it hurt more
Leaves my hair in a clump
Ruins my teeth

Dad will ask why I didn't eat with the family
He means his family
Not the one you are apart of
The one he has crafted

Mom asks if you've gotten skinnier
they whispered
"Take it as a compliment"
they are the lover who will be the only one to ever truly love me

Mom still asks if I've gotten skinnier
I smile and say I've got no clue if I have
I think it's just my thighs and hips gaining weight
Recovery means gaining weight unless you aren't recovering

Skinny is what she wants me to be
they is my family
they tells me the truth
they aren't going to leave me
they wouldn't try and let me be alone
They say blood is thicker than water
Well skinny and thin are better