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Pixie Feb 20
When I was in 1st grade I would jump off the swing set just to feel alive
I got a lot of attention because the other kids thought I could die
Maybe I was lacking some sort of Imbalance chemically in my mind
Because the attention they gave me Was a new type of high

I illicit reactions just so I can feel fine
Blood is in the sink I think I can finally see the light
I want to feel the wind between my arms And lift into the air just one more time
The attention is addicting

Thick eyeliner and a black boobie dress
12 years old and they say I'm not filled out quite yet
I enjoyed the validation the old men gave me
Blood red, pill dead
Just like the pretty cigarette girls on TV said.
stuck in this loveless hole until somebody saves me.
Self destructive, enable the pain
Turn the corner and play their game.
I only want to what's worst for me.

I illicit reactions just to see
The emotionally intense delivery
Oh you should see your face,
And in the frown you gave me.
I'm just a liar now
No one hears my screams
There's blood in the sink and no one is listening

Lower middle class middle school *****, stealing pencil sharpeners every chance I could get
The blood is on my clothes and its not coming off
And I'll still send that old man a picture of my body
As I leek blood, draining it like a hobby.
He ignores my pain to fulfill his selfish pleasures knowing he gets to see a pubescent body with ******* on
I only like doing the things that are bad for me.

I illicit these reactions to keep the attraction
If I'm in control and I know their intentions, they can't hurt me
It can't happen
But there's still blood in the sink
God I'm so tragic
Wouldn't you think?
Pixie Feb 11
I am not apart of my body
And I'm not apart of my mind
These places aren't real and neither am I-
I find comfort in this feeling, oddly satisfied.  

I fade away forgetting the pain
Stuck in this haze
I can't seem to reciprocate a single conversation
Slipping away they think my fate is seldom at the devil's gate
But truly I am just dissociating away.
I can't seem to remember what it was they hated
But I no longer feel the weight of all that's been done to me
Spinning freely away from your gaze.

My memory is stuck. Someone took a key and locked it up and these painful thoughts seep through the bars causing me to feel ajar, I feel panicked I feel disgusted. The pain I thought I hid from is now being digested.

Piece by piece get it back in tiny parts, float away and forget the pain please protect my heart. I can't seem to remember what it was you've done to me, but I know in my bones, my body never felt like home, because it was you who had injected me and infected me, with your sick sticky specimen, locked up in your basement den, ruining my mind teaching me to fly.

My head is nearly leaking methanol disguise my self hide it all. I believe I'm a doctor I know I can prescribe it all myself. Self medicated nose full of Xanax lines i can't seem to get inside my head. Heart is bursting out my chest, lungs are full of cigarettes, God It was such a mess I loved it. The chaos he created, made me replicate it, a cycle of doom there's so many men in my room, who am I anymore?  

Front view right above myself just so I can watch my body rotting. This self destructive part of me is so **** exhausting. How come no one sees my cries how come no one saves me from these lies. Im feeling lonely. Each person came and took a awfully big piece of me I'm starting to fall apart so easily.

Sixteen years feels like too much.
When all you've felt is enough
The cold bitter wind just let this be the end of me, so maybe I can float away for real this once instead of in my mind
I can't make it this time.

The goddess in the wind, kissed me tenderly and told me it's time to win. I felt the warmth and I started to sing, that's when I turned 18 and you gave me a ring, we rebuild all the parts they broke together, and while I may still float away, my angel boy is there to catch me when the wind blows me too far away, slowly and tenderly wrapping my torn heart in his arms,
He saved me.
Pixie Feb 23
The greenery of this place never fooled me
The sky just looks so fake,
the clouds are drawn on.
Im at the park on the swings
I need to feel something in my stomach before I waste away at the young ripe age of 5

Just 8 years later getting fingered on the same slide I was afraid of as a little girl
The wind from the past keeps the swings on the playground moving higher
Doing the things that are bad for me
Just to feel lighter

When I'm 15 I have no place to be
No one and nothing to call home
Not even my body is somewhere I know.  
I pop a xannie for the thrill
Hoping that stranger I messaged will take me away from the godforsaken place

This stupid park that holds me so captive.
Run away can't face what is happening
In my head, I'm already dead
Nothing is real
take a Xanax
I only like doing the things that are bad for me
I only like feelings if they're going to make me bleed
I don't care about the context
Of my universal insignificance, I can't even repent. Sitting here on the floor. Higher than the swings ever brought me.
Crashing harder and harder each time I speak.
I can't get off the swing.
Pixie Mar 23
I never held you,
only met you once—
a blurry FaceTime smile
through the screen of someone breaking.

Your name still echoes
in the chambers of my heart.
I asked for pictures,
asked about your therapies,
asked if she missed you.

She said yes.
She said so much.
She said nothing at all
that could undo
the dark she kept choosing.

I offered her light.
A room.
A chance.
A future where you had a mother
who came back for you.

But she blurred the days
until stars and moon meant nothing.
She couldn't see you
through the fog.

I tried to be enough
for both of you—
enough to help her
see your little hands
as a lifeline,
not a burden.

But she let go.

I held on too long.
Not to her,
but to hope—
that you'd be her reason.
That love might dig her out
when logic couldn’t.

You were never the problem.
You were the light.
The small, glowing miracle
she left in the dark.

And still,
I think of you.
Jeremiah.
Jerbear.
Sweet boy with a story
written before you could speak it.

Maybe you’ll find me someday,
when you're older,
when the past starts to ache.

I’ll tell you
how I tried.
How your mother did love you—
in a way too bruised to be safe.
In a way too broken to hold on.

But I never stopped thinking
you were worth it.
And I still believe it now.
Watching your friends abandoned their children for addiction is heartwrenching
Pixie Feb 20
The walls are caving in,
but I can’t remember if I built them or if they’re just the ghosts of where I’ve been.
Your name is the ember in my chest—
I’m always burning,
but I can’t figure out why yet.

I wear your touch like a tattoo
etched into my skin
but it’s fading,
and I wonder if I can really feel it anymore
or if I’ve just learned to forget the ache.

My hands tremble like an abandoned house in a storm,
looking for something to hold,
but everything I touch slips between my fingers
like time,
Like memories,
Like all the parts of me I forgot and can't remember,
And like all the people who promised to stay but never did.

I was naive to think love was the key
to unlock this bottomless abyss inside my ribs and inside my chest,
but now I'm just fading away,
like the echoes of voices I never wanted to hear but make me feel so much less lonely.
I fill the silence with smoke
and stories that don’t belong to me—
Or perhaps stories that were lived through my eyes but I can't actually see.

I’m running from the ghosts of myself,
but they don’t let me go.
They pull me back to that place,
In that house
where I learned that pain is the only thing that ever feels real.
The higher I go,
The more I feel,
The greater the risk
the harder I crash.

But I can't stop.
I only let the blood mix with the rain.
I beg the sky for answers,
but the clouds never speak,
Forcing my to gather my own perception of peace.

I wanted to be saved.
By anyone other than myself
I wasn't ever taught to fly
But I learned to jump
And I jumped so high I found a cloud
One far away, one that's a lot less loud.
It's safer up here
My poems don't feel well structured but it's similar to how my own mind works anyway.
Pixie Mar 6
Little morgue baby come out to play

I swear I won’t leave or go away

I came to this graveyard with all my dollies today,

I’ll play with Malorie and you can have Rei.

Little morgue angel why do weep?

Is it because you cannot sleep?

Ill sit here I won't make a peep
You just lay here and I'll watch you
I promise to be sweet

I’ll just wait here for you sorrow sweet angel.

Little graveyard girl what happened to you?

You look all ****** and bruised!

Please graveyard girl don’t scream at me

I just want to help you! Please let's leave!

Small cemetery child why does it smell;

Like rotting flesh and toxic waste?
Please let me help tie your lace

Your body looks so damaged and broke ,
It's making me choke

I don’t understand why you stay in this place!

I’m trying to help you get out,

Yet your eyes are so dull
They won't sparkle at all

And you’re sitting in the dirt, like a garden gnome would
Afraid to get up afraid if you could

Churchyard princess it’s time to go!

Why won’t you leave?

The cross is melting
Please come with me.

I can’t stay here anymore, this place will make me fade away;
These other kids they don't want to play
They think I'm ***** they think I should get out of the way

Please don’t abandon me!
Maggots feast on your dress
And I know I can't go home
Feeling so cold
No one will feel the same about me

I can’t stand the thought of being alone.

Burial ground baby you’re starting to rot!

Little morgue girl please stop!

Before I leave and fade away, stuck in this cemetery prison
Before he is risen

I haven’t even had time to play a single game with you.

My graveyard girl has forgotten about me
She left and got stranded out in sea
I knew she would have been safer right here next to me

Now all I believe

Is that she really truly needed someone to save her from her own decomposition that was seldom never right

She's faded away and now I don't know if she found the light.

They took me away, separated our faith and now she will forever never remain
Plot twist: I'm both of them
Pixie Feb 20
And if my body was my home
Id burn it and everything to the ground
Rebuild it bit by bit from ashes
A home you cannot touch
A home you have not haunted.
One that's safe and peaceful free from your ghost
A brand new body
That your soul no longer hosts
My body cannot be a home
But maybe if I  dig you out
And remove your grave from my heart
I will finally have a body that I can rest peacefully in when I die
Instead of letting it rot from the inside out, while I'm alive.
Pixie Feb 11
I am a product of my parents pain
Holding the weight of their trauma on my shoulders no older than nine.
I'd be lying if I said I regret the roles I played
in the chaos they create

We were only little kids, up the stairs not far away,
watching the cracks run up the wall, breathing in menthol
this was our fate

And from that day, the chaos insued, mini mommy #2
sleepless nights, blood shot eyes. Just like the baby was mine.
Since day 1 it's what I was expected to do.

My baby brother was no less than 2
The night I awoke to screaming and banging,
I knew the role it was time to assume,
I rushed down in a panic to grab him out of their room.
I froze in fear watching the anger trickle down their faces and seeing the way my father paces.
My friends were all dreaming in their beds
while I was on the phone with Mamaw trying to use my head,
To get out this house, before we're dead.
In the morning when they all got ready for math I started to buckle his carseat so fast,
ready to leave this mess
I just want my baby brother to get some rest.

They're screaming through the walls again,
yet my little sister silently sleeps through their soundly battles
while I hear my brother cry for the 19th time
Making my way downstairs
Peering into the room
just to get ****** into their doom, forced to choose a side.
Becoming apart of the fight that night made them make amends
finding a common enemy means they can be friends.
I just wanted quiet
I just wanted peace.
I just wanted calm and for my baby brother to sleep.
I swear I'm a good mother to him I swear it's so true,
I know that I am because I'm doing more than you.
I need my baby to sleep. It's good for him, you see?
So you have to find common ground by villainizing me
for a little bit of tranquility,
maybe we can all get some sleep.

My father is full of rage
and my mother seeks control from her anxiety,
they were a dangerous combination of chemicals
causing me to sizzle over slowly, symptomatically
Ruining my brain functions,
systematically.
Though, I have gained from them every part they hate about themselves.
Searching to find their insecurities in me
but can't relieve myself of their generational wealth of trauma,
so maybe we can just pretend it's all okay,
just for a day.

I can't untagled the parts of them that are within me.
I am forever bound and chained by their past and pain,
there will always be pieces of them that are pieces of me.
I feel my father's rage and I seek my mother's control,
yet I'm grieving them like they're dead,
while trying to picture what I'd really do about their death.
The weight of their mistakes push down tightly on my chest.

I don't like confrontation,
but I'm staring the sun straight in the face
Begging you both to love me properly
Praying for a life where you guys kept me safe.
I just wanted to be your kid.
Not a piggy bank vault of hidden secrets
forced to keep collecting and harboring your emotional baggage, just for you to forget
Leaving me with lockets of memories
That will forever remain hard to piece.
Did it sink in yet.
Pixie Mar 6
There was no magic manual that was given when you gave birth to me
But if there was you would have failed miserably
Even if the answers were written in dark red ink
They wouldn't have given anyone time to think
That maybe the magic mannual that came for me is wrong
Because nothing is fixing me it's taking too long.

But if that magic mannual was real
It would tell them I didn't need fixed
If there was a guide book on how to help
It would tell them to breathe with me
If there were check lists on what to do
Would they have even gone through
With helping me or was I just the enemy

It shouldn't have taken a doctor
It shouldn't have taken a stay
It shouldn't taken anything
Besides them just spending one day
Talking to me helping me working with me side by side
I was too young to bare the weight of wanting to die

And that's why even if the magical manual did exist
My parents wouldn't care. They would be ******
That the efforts they were already exhausting wasn't enough
They didn't have the energy for me
They just wanted to use tough love.
But I was a fragile gentle child
Who needed a hug.

I know there's not a magical manual
And especially not for me
But why did my parents give up so tirelessly
When I was struggling endlessly
Complex and matter of factly.


My magic manual mediates the troubles in face.
If it were real maybe I would have gotten some grace.
My magical manual says it there in the fine print
This little girl came with a few dents.
Pixie Feb 11
Beyond the hills, they understood me,
In the quiet of my mind, I am seen.
Then my eyes are ripped open, the world hits me like a wave, the anger thick and metallic in my mouth. My pulse races, my skin aches — everything feels too loud, too bright, too much. I can’t escape, and the weight of it all is crushing me, like a  drop of water dripping constantly.

I was not a problem child,
I was a child with a problem That caused me to process the world in patterns and pieces instead of as a whole. I wasn't a puzzle I just needed stability in the home.

Around the river and down the path they supported me
But I'm laying in bed instead
Paralyzed in my own skin, stuck in the chaos of my mind.
Hearing their words on repeat and rewind
Lazy lazy lazy
Try harder try harder try harder
You're a liar liar liar
But I'm trying my hardest I'm doing my best  and the weight of their disbelief presses heavily on my chest. It's thick and suffocating they can't see the mental war inside of me, just the absence of my results. I regret to inform you that It wasn't laziness but invisibility that was a plague to me.


Even when I mixed up my letters and struggled to sit still. I could never be quite and my mind spun like a windmil, running 3 miles a minute,  my mind has never known silence and peace. Though somehow to them  it was always a calculated plan. I would manipulate them with ease.

Fear claws at me, a constant gnawing,
My head starts spinning, and the weight of failure bears down.
I avoid, I freeze, my mind a storm, afraid of failure and afraid to try creating a tornado of paralysis in my mind
I try to speak, but my words are tangled in knots.
no matter the effort and energy I use
It always seems to be reduced, in their minds,
It's all a tactical plan, a game I play to illict attention, even if I lack having an attention span.


When my brain can't comprehend the world in a typical way, I'm told I just need to grow up and deal with the pain.

Lacking the ability to thrive as a child, no one to support the way my brain had been wired, falling deeper and deeper into the role of a liar.

I'm too smart to struggle
I don't apply myself and I lack the ability to juggle multiple tasks
They swear I'm lazy
And I know I'm not good enough for the world they made for me
I can hardly talk to the cashier ladies
I need to improve my work ethic
I need to apply myself.
But what good is trying when you already know you're piling information on top of itsself, crashing and malfunctioning, the system creating coding errors, measured in dysfunction and despair.

Sitting on top of the tree, the branches hug me as I lean into them. I can't be lazy if I climbed all the way up here. I can't be dumb if I know how to get down. I know that what I feel is normalized as unproblematic in my parents town. I can see beyond my struggles and I know I have the ability to succeed. I excell in subject that are beyond me, even if I lack basic literacy and feel lonely.

Everything is normal nothing is symptomatic I'm just being dramatic I'm only a child and children like me can't have that.

Feeling the breeze hit me, and taking in all the shame, I struggle to understand myself and I lack the ability to make it a game. My struggles slip through the cracks and I'm always met with attacks. The fact remains the same that imposter will always be attached to my name

My feelings slip through my finger tips, like sand in the wind. I reach for them on the wheel, but the words dissolve before I grasp them, not even having names. only shapes, fleeting like shadows. Hiding behind the walls. There is not one word to describe this pain at all.

Failing to help regulate my constantly  unregulated body and speculating my motives. Constantly on the edge of our seats fighting for my mind to just be right. Hoping for us to all feel peace

Down by meadow surrounded by flowers, I hear the wind and I know the truth at last. I needed support and a helping hand. A routine and someone to try and understand. Someone to help me find peace within myself and not find chaos in their judgement . I wasn't the problem, I needed to be seen, not as a puzzle but as a whole piece. It was the world at hand not being built for a brain that  processes information like I can
Anyone else need to use the wheel of emotions to figure out what they're feelings
Pixie Mar 6
You were taught that love was earned not given
Power and control secured affection
Competing for a section of security
Survival was a piece of you, you gave to me.

I know I can't take away the pain
Because your grandfather gave it to your mother to send my way.
It hurts me to think
That once upon time,
You were just someone's baby too.
Just like I am to you.

And you always wanted better for me.
Financially there was more stability
But together we erupted violently
Volcanoes crying spitefully
Scared to ignite the rivalry

You told me that the world won't take care of you, unless you hide your own vulnerability, make yourself useful, you'll have more opportunities too!

The markings run so deep, I stand by the family tree
I beg him to tell me the secrets. I need to understand the story.
These branches hold generations of survival, feelings that don't hold glory.

Unconditional love is conditional
Nothing is reciprocacal if you don't show your worth it- in the end. It's important for your survival to stay undeniably valuable to attain any kind of sustainability, my friend.

I didn't speak
I just let the tree whisper to me
Taking in the breeze between the branches
I heard him tell the tragic tale of each members past transgressions that later got imbeeded into my own actions.

Can I escape the fate of surviving the roots that are within this tree.
Or will I become a branch, forever  bound to grow in the same direction.
Seen, but out of reach
Losing touch with affection.
I hope to find that I can be my own seed.
Move close by,
but away from the original family tree
Pixie Feb 19
I'm not a monster
But my teeth are sharp
And I've got a tendency to come out after dark
I found the old me wrapped up in a tarp
Half of me in my dads backyard and the other half in my mom's shopping cart
I asked for nastolgia and all I got was growing pains
It's been another year and my rage remains the same
Growing older and growing with me
She doesn't want to separate
Finding a home inside my veins

And I still remember the way it felt to jump into your arms
Wrapped in security I could never be harmed
The security you provided was never protection
I've met several versions of the same person
I always thought he loved me but he never had
And Over and over again I wonder who he is
Till I look into your eyes and
I want to seek comfort
I want to find peace
But when I look at your eyes I see every man I've come to meet.

You were suppose to protect me
I was your little girl
It was our world and you always kept me safe,
But I didn't know that keeping me safe meant from you, or all the other yous out there that exist.
The way you loved my mother
Taught me everything a man would do.
It was not a pretty love story either if you needed a clue.

I went to the infermery, the feelings you stick me with make me so sick only for the doctor to tell me
I've been diagnosed with homesickness from a home that was never real
But a place i Long and miss.
I've tried to read between the lines of who I was and who you wanted me to be
But I couldnt ever tell
I couldn't see what you wanted from me.
Now when I look into the mirror
And I'm reminded of who you are
I take a deep breath just to find we have the same scars

I wonder, am I going to be
Ignorant and violent and distant one day too
Or will I find all the good parts of you in me and show you who you could have been
If you didn't fall into the madness your grandfather perpetuated and your mother continued.
I don't want to be like you
At least the you, you are the one you became
But I am in every way

Maybe one day on your death bed you will finally tell me you are proud
But I know your pride eats at you and seeks for the parts of me that are apart of you
So I will burn down everything you've created me to be with gasoline
And I will rebuild each part of me  with new parts of who I want to be.
Parts of me that will still feel the darkness
Parts of me who feel rage
Part of that little girl who still wants her father to be engaged enough to see her for who she is.

No matter who I become, I cannot hide that you will always be Ingrained into me.
One day you will find, you could have been who I have became all along.
And if I could go back in a time machine to change it for us
I would
To love you as a child
Just as they should
Just like you deserved
Just like I deserved.
Pixie Feb 20
What if God was the serpent all along
He is all knowing
he gave free will to Adam and Eve knowing she would eat the apple from the forsaken tree
Which shows that he has it out for me
The deal was sealed that very night
I shouted I scream and cried
I wanted the love I wanted the help
From the "all knowing" "all loving" "all powerful" omnipotent being
Begging for his heavenly father to use his Devine power to rescue me
Only to be left stranded and abandoned
The holy Father prays on our downfalls
And deceives us more than Lucifer, the fallen angel ever could.
The holy Father grins at our dispair.
He kept letting it happen to me even as I cry out and plea, multiples times over
God told me unholy little girls can't get into heaven
He watches the world burn and lets the devil take credit for his glorious destructive ways.
Haunted by guilt, consumed by shame
A little girls cherry bleed bright red For the game, right under a cross i beg and and I try, I ask god if he can close his eyes but he will condemn me for life
This time forced to live in eternal fear
The holy Ghost is not near
I cannot atone for sins that aren't mine
I will not be forced to abide.
Not a critique on religion persay but if you wanna think of it as one go for it.
Pixie Feb 19
Violated-
and yet to be vindicated, the pieces of me that have been stolen and never returned, still haunt me when I close my eyes.

Isolated-
from my mind, unable to access and find the proof of my memories that were left behind. The walls I built to keep the pain from finding me, have become the prison that fuels my decay

Only-
fragments remain, a broken mirror scattered on the floor. Seeing myself in parts, dripping blood as I piece myself back together, to never remain as before

Lingering-
in the shadows of my thoughts, I search for solace in silence, but the echoes whisper softly in my ear, spinning in my mind.

Empty-
heart and empty mind, crush the pills and scrape it in a line. Just a release to keep your ghosts away from mine.

Never-
will I be the same.  Each small event had a role to play. Making me sick thinking about their game. The void is deeper than I can explain.

Crashing-
waves of doubt and regret pull me under, suffocating the last remnants of who I thought I was. But in this water, I cannot see. Forcing my eyes shut to avoid the pain of the salt sinking in.

Endings-
are not what I fear. It’s the thought of never having a chance to begin again, the weight of knowing my worth and understanding what safety really is. My heart is violent just like you. My mind unsafe too. Yet i couldn't be violent the way you do.
When will the violence be over

— The End —