They say
actions speak louder than words
and if that’s true
I was screaming

Empty words
empty smiles
Haunted the last few years
of school
Somedays it was obvious
no talking
no smiles
no anything
but my “friends” didn’t notice
didn’t care
and the ones that would’ve cared
I didn’t go to

Fake gestures
fake friends
you said you cared about me
but you didn’t
you just wanted the math homework
inviting me over
was just for certainty

Anxious actions
anxious me
trying desperately
to keep these people my friends
but I couldn’t keep fighting
I was already screaming
help me
I’m hopeless, helpless, and scared
and they couldn’t hear me
so fighting and pleading
wasn’t worth it anyway

Leaving them
leaving fear
or so I thought
but years of fake friends
and unheard actions
unheard screaming
made me think
that my other friends
wouldn’t hear me too

Loving friends
Loving me
they heard me
they helped me help myself
and I don’t need to scream
and fight
and plead
anymore
because they hear me
before I even start
screaming

I'm smoke trapped behind glass
Swirling against my prison
I fade to nothing

Morning sunrise comes
Birds’ sweet melody is heard
My soft snores in bed

I know you keep your eyes on the ground
so you don't trip again
but take a moment to

stop

              

                 up                     *
and look                                   *                to                   *                     *
                                                               ­       *the     *        *   *      *        *  *
                                            ­                        *         *    *    *     *     *        *    *    
                                                               *           *       stars     *   *      *    

a little while ago
a group of people
family, friends, almost-strangers
carved a version of me
into stone
and said
"please never change!"
and implied
or we'll never treat you the same
so I have tried to stay
the same to this image
of an old, dead me
too afraid to shed
this old, rotting skin
too afraid to move
from this fixed position
and to try to finally be
myself

That word brings me back
to crouching behind my grandma’s couch
listening to my uncle yell at my cousin
that she couldn’t go to her friend’s uncles’ house
just because there were two of them
And I remember realizing
that my family might hurt me
if I ever came out to them

That word brings me back
to 2 am in bed
tears in my eyes
trying to convince myself
that my feelings were real
and hoping that they weren’t

That word brings me back
to walking through the hallway
and listening to other teens
spew hate and slurs
not knowing how much it hurt

That word brings me back
to sitting in a church I had never been in
listening to the pastor preach and yell
about how God hated
and I felt all my future plans of coming out
go down the drain

That word brings me back
to reading hundreds of news stories
about how people like me were killed
just because they were different
and wanted to love and exist
in a way that was different

That word brings me back
to hiding books I wanted to buy
from my parents view
just because the characters
were LGBTQ

That word brings me back
to so many different places
and all that they have in common
is that they cause me pain
so I’m sorry that I don’t think
that slurs can be reclaimed
especially when you still use it
in a derogatory way

i. hunger
It starts with the want
to fill the hole in my soul
that anxiety has chipped away at
with the only reliable thing
that will make me feel good
food
wonderful, instantly gratifying
food

ii. consume
Chocolates and junk food
or spoonfuls of ice cream
and a brownie
desserts that top off a Sunday brunch
push away the thoughts that say
this is a horrible idea
and feast!

iii. sickness
My stomach begins to churn
my chest gets tight
and I feel like emptying
my stomach
my mind
my life
regret attacks my stomach and mind
karma for the horrible decision
I made
junk food hates me as much as
I care for it

iv. guilt
My stomach is a bloated planet
my thighs its insurmountable mountains
look what you have done?
you fat idiot!
consuming and consuming
soon your body will make you unloveable
I try to empty my stomach
bent over pristine porcelain
sweat dripping down my face
desperately googling for help
to hurt myself

v. aftermath
Three-digit number
I’m too ashamed to speak it
but I feel the numbers
imprint in my mind
with a note
stop eating as much as possible
so guilt follows every meal
every moment spent in front of a mirror
is an inspection
bulging thighs
flabby arms
stomach barely contained
how do you show your face in public?
a binger too afraid to purge
when will you finally feel guilty enough
to take action?
these thoughts stay in my head
until the next binge
then they return again

i think i've always had an urge
to rip myself to pieces
to value myself less than others
and although it's unhealthy
i don't think i hate it
i let my mind destroy myself
because i definitely deserve it
and as long as others don't get hurt
i don't care what happens

Too far away to fathom
too close to disregard
paperwork and phone calls
were adventures always this hard?

Not living at home
has always felt like a far-off future
but I’m working so hard to leave so soon
and the days are growing fewer and fewer

I’m scared and happy and apprehensive
that I’m leaving everyone I know behind
even if it is only for a few months
I’m still going to a new place blind

It’s not soon, but it’s so close
and thinking about leaving my friends
makes me want to cry
so when it’s time to go
that won’t be the end

people hurt
they take your heart in their hands and squeeze the life out of it
but why

why do they lie
why do they say things that make you question yourself again and again

is it because they’re miserable
do they like to see the insercurity bubble up on others’ faces
or they just want to see you upset

i’m so confused
what is your objective
what do you want from me