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Emma Apr 2019
My depression was not a grey sky.

                     It was not a rainbow, waiting with a *** of gold.

                                 It was not even cloudy blue, yearning for
                                                  high wind.

                                                          ­            My depression did not even
                                                                ­                 have a sky.

                                                           ­                      My depression was
                                                                ­     an endless rabbit hole.

                                  But the rabbit hole has an ending.
                      I can see the blue skies up ahead.

My depression did not have a sky. But my happiness will.
Emma Mar 2019
I am always asked
"Why have you changed yourself?",
To which my reply must always be
"Which part of myself do you mean?"

"Do you mean my appearance,
Which I have complemented with metal and ink?
I did that to feel whole again,
To make my body my own."

"Or do you mean my humour,
Once light and happy, turned dark and damaging?
I did that to protect myself. If I am dark
Then you shall never know how I truly feel."

"Or perhaps you mean my being, once loving and trusting,
Turned cold and evermore hostile.
Do you believe, after everything I have endured,
I would allow myself to trust another again?"

"I have changed myself to reflect the environment around me.
I have changed to survive in a world
Of traitors and abusers,
Much like those boys were for me."

So when you ask me
"Why have you changed?",
Do not be scared of the answers which you may receive.
They will now forever be me.
Emma Mar 2019
As long as I am alive,
I will always see the boy,
Feel the boy,
Smell the boy.
It’s my nightly terror
And my daily reality.

I’ll be living
Halfway around the world
And the smell of him
Will find me
And drag me back to
His bedroom,
On my heads and knees begging.

It will bring me back
To the fear of this dusty town
And all the suffering he’s put me through.
I will always fear the boy,
And I will always fear you
For you could become the boy.
Emma Feb 2019
My mind is a Haunted House.
I live in it with
the abusers,
the non-believers,
the cowards
and the lairs.

I am haunted by
lovers who have come and gone;
traitors that took my skin and
made it a stranger to me;
and the ghosts that make my brain their home.

I am haunted
because I know that I was not brave enough.
I am haunted
by those who have come after me
because I was not loud enough.

I am Sorry, my loves.
I could not stop what happened to you.
But I will teach you how to cope
with your Haunted House.
I pray for you, my loves.
Emma Feb 2019
The first time it happened,
I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour.
I cried, desperately washing away at the blood that was streaming from
In between my legs.
I cried, desperately trying to put myself back together
With concealer for the bruises
And pantyliners for the blood.

The second time it happened,
I picked roses from the garden
And cried at the altar of Christ.
It was at this time that I knew there must be no god,
As no deity that claims everlasting love
Would allow for the heartache
You put me through.

I didn’t understand what had happened to me.
I didn’t know what my body was responding to.
I couldn't apprehend why I was leaving scars on my skin
And changing every aspect of my appearance to
Make my body my own.
I didn’t understand how you could do this to me,
To someone who did everything to protect you.

I still do not understand.
Emma Jan 2019
And once again,
My love betrayed me.
He found one better,
One that filled his soul in ways that I could never.
She’s not broken like me,
But neither is she kind like me;
Or selfless like me;
Or caring like me either.
So, when he stares at her
In the same way he used to stare at me,
I hope he sees everything that she is not
As well as everything she is.
She may fill his soul in ways that I could never,
But she will never fill his soul like me.
She may be the one he chose,
But she will never be me.
Emma Dec 2018
In times past,
I would see love
Where only rage and lust
Had made their home.
Until I knew you, I thought love meant
Bruised legs and
Vultures making a home of my skin.

I thought it meant
And empty packets of pills waiting to be
Swept up by a weeping mother
As she realised what had been done.
I did not know
How good love could be
Until I knew you.

But since knowing you,
You have shown me what
Love can truly mean.
It is by no means perfect.
It is not always happy,
But it is real.
It does not mean starving lips
Stealing innocence from unwilling souls.
It means comfort in simply existing.

And whilst we are not in love
I can honestly say,
With my whole heart,
I love you.
I trust you.
And thank you,
For showing me it didn’t always have
To be this way.
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