I think if Madness were a person he'd be a handsome, sharp dressed, man. He would wear a well tailored suit with a deep purple, velvet, waistcoat. I imagine  he'd wear a black fedora for the mystery and a pocket watch to keep time. A little old fashioned but ageless.

A few days before he arrives I always get antsy. My anxiety acts up and I do things like leave the grocery store in a panic and empty handed. I take my kids to the park and then I find I suddenly can't breathe and the world feels like it's ending. And then....there is the inevitable knock on my minds door.

"Oh it's you" I'd say.
"Dont pretend like you didn't know I was in town..." He pushed past me , drops his stuff , and easily finds the whiskey cabinet and pours himself a full glass. He has been here before.  "I was at the grocery store yesterday and the park a few days before that. " he turns, glass in hand. He smiles and it sends chills down my spine. "Well..." He continues, "you should have known I was coming . The signs were all there." I turn away, nervously and indignantly.
He sips his whiskey, studying me.
"Right. You thought some vitamins and sunshine could keep me away."
The thought obviously amuses him. He laughs and downs his entire drink in one gulp. He loves this game. He pours another whiskey and walks over to me. He puts the drink in my left hand and stands right up against my back, his hands on my shoulders, his lips near my ears. I can feel his warm breathe and I am nauseated and comforted at the same time.  He slowly moves his hands down my arms to my hands. He locks his right hand with mine and wraps it around my stomach so his arm is around me too. His left hand brings the drink up to my lips. I close my eyes for a moment wishing him away. It doesn't work.
"Now" he whispers "where were we?"

I open my fridge door and what do I see?
A half empty bottle of beer, relishes, old vegetables and water.

I close the door.

My groaning stomach persuades me to open the door once more. Like an alter ego, I obey it's commands.

I'm sure this time, there will be food, food that was invisible just a second ago. Food that I will see, if I look hard enough.

I grab the chilled silver handle and give it a pull. Wide open swings the door to reveal food galore!--

Oh wait, there's no food, not even a decent beverage. There's still just a whole load of nothingness and hunger.

A deep dark depression cuts me like a knife through butter. no food here, no food there, nothingness all around just starvation and suffering.

I close the fridge.

The cycle repeats itself.


Such is life.

I used to be alive- now I'm invisible
your words were like knives
penetrating deep into my soul
I wilted, slowly bled
from your memory

but I kept coming back
trying to make my presence felt
my efforts were in vain
I was just a mist, here today, gone tomorrow

in your memory I was a spectre
a glimmer in the past, nothing more
than forgotten photographs
where you scratched out my face

I'm forever dead to you
and now I'm motionless
despite my pleads
which you simply tossed to the wind.

She was my warm cup of tea
at midnight after a nightmare.
She was my fresh from the dryer blanket.
She was my favorite book,
a new glasses cleaning cloth.
She was sugar for my coffee.
She was beautiful,
But I could never say
I loved her.

Play

I am not the answer
I don't know the answers
Google it
I am not the reason the wax melts.
After years of staring at the flame,
entrancing, dancing, blue and yellow flame,
I've decided to touch it.
Ninety-nine cents per lighter
They told me not to touch it
but I like to do things I'm not supposed to.
Like kissing girls and eating icing off of the cupcakes.
Touching the flame is just another rule to break.
See wikipedia for a list of breakable rules.

I bought this candle for you
Only he knew I can't sleep without
the window cracked a  bit.
Researchers say that's bad for your health.

The flame flickers
But I didn't have the answers,
and I couldn't find them.
He wanted instantaneous,
but I'm still a bit old fashioned
in this digital age.
Everything changes so fast.
Get the latest updates on your device!

A breath, a whoosh, the flame is gone.
I knew things were different when
we reached out to touch *(the screen) but

*Pause

Watch your body fall to pieces.
It will not be the first to give up on you,
but it won't be the last, either.

When your nose bleeds,
resist the urge to scream.
It is only because all you've eaten
in the past three days was a grape.
Calcium deficiency.

Your skin will turn yellow
and your nails will be brittle.
It's not beautiful.
You will not look like the plastic
photo lies on the magazine covers.

Your body is consuming itself.
Maybe it sounds like poetry,
but it tastes like fear.
The fear of gaining weight,
the fear of not being perfect.

Your heart will weaken,
your kidneys could fail,

If you die of anorexia nervosa,
it will not be beautiful.
It will not be poetic.
It is grotesque and painful.
The doctors will shove tubes down your throat
just to keep you alive,
while your mind screams,
we can't have those calories

How do you waste away?
It's easy to do.
Hate every piece of yourself
until it's so small you can't feel it.

I never felt safe in my own house.
Could never climb the stairs without
nervous glancing, gazelle fleeing.
Could never turn off the lights
without another light beckoning in the distance
to guide me to safety like a white moth to flame.
His voice still echoes in the dining room,
I never fixed the holes he punched in the walls.
I don't know how to fix the ruins he's made,
To undo the damages he's done,
So for me,
This home will forever be haunted.

I dreamt that you left,
And I cried tears of blood.
They say dreams have meaning,
and I don't know what that means,
but I think you're killing me