Scratched
Worn
Splintered  
Torn
I hang on
But who knows how long

This piece of driftwood
In the open—raging sea
Pummeling me and this driftwood
Far away from land
In a surging storm
Me at to rip away the weak

I try so much
I cry all day
I beg for mercy
On most of my days
This pain
The nausea
The dizzy spells
All the times I *****
Because I can’t keep things down

Or how about my anxiety
My hallucinations too
It’s not fair
That the medication isn’t doing
what it’s supposed too

I try and try
But I fail and fall
And I collapse
So much
Ive fainted before

If you ask me if
“Im alright”
I’ll say “Im fine”
And move on with my life
Because no matter
What I have to keep fighting
I know that Theve tried
I know there trying
But what there doing isn’t enough
And I’m hurting

So here I am
On a driftwood out to sea
Fighting brutal storm
Pushing me
I don’t know the last time
I was free

But
At least I know
I have energy left
To keep up the mask
And I know that in this space
I can be me
And spill out
My battles

Like this painful
Ride
Whitch I will try
To fight
And let myself be me

The cycle.
Day and night.
This daily fight.
Just to survive.
What is this cycle ?
You may ask?
Well it goes like this,
And everyday it lasts.
I eat.
I get nauseous.
I gag.
I *****.
I can’t keep food down,
I can’t keep liquids down,
I don’t feel hunger,
I’m afraid to eat.
So—in turn I don’t eat,
or drink at all.
Till my body breaks-
and I collapse,
Or fall.
Then it repeats,
Putting it back into me.
Even though I’m afraid,
And I find no reason why,
To keep eating,
If I can’t keep it down,
In the first place.
This is what life is like,
With disorders,
And illness.
My body repeats this cycle,
But the doctors try to postpone it.
Still with no success…

I carry a storm,
In the pocket of my shirt.
A restless demon,
Clawing.
Ripping.
Shredding.
My body apart,
From the inside out.
Shattering bones,
Through every breath.
The taste of blood,
Of acid,
Is all I know.
Thunder in my mind,
And voices,
Is all that bombards,
My brain.
My hallucinations.
Develop,
I was told I'm faking,
But I'm not fine.
The demos echo,
They yell,
In that shrill voice,
I know all too well.
These echos send,
Alarms like a bell.
My heart is shattered glass,
Like a mirror,
Laying on the floor.
Cutting deeper,
With each bolt,
That sends waves into my body.
I wear this weight.
Like a second skin.
That’s underneath,
Hiding what’s within.
I struggle—I fight everyday.
What you don’t see,
Is what goes on,
Day to day.
The vomiting.
The pain.
The nausea.
The shame.
The anemia.
The dizziness.
The fighting for life,
It’s a lot of chores.
To stay alive— is a battle,
My body forces me to ride,
Like a roller coaster.
This fight in my pocket,
Is a storm brewing out of control
Who knows?
When my body,
Will hit a pole.
This storm,
Is making me lose myself,
More.

Why do I cry?
Why do I feel sad?
Why do I feel worthless?
Why do I feel bad?

Why do I feel like,
I’ll never be enough?
Why do I feel,
I’ll never be tough?

Why do I think…
I’m brave enough?
Why do I think,
I can stand up,
For what’s right?
Why do I struggle,
With all the,
Simple things in life?

Why do I hate,
The thought,
Of being alone?
Why do I feel,
Like I’m stuck in a black hole?

Why do I fight back?
Why do I lie?
Why didn’t I protect myself…
That day i almost died?

All these “whys” inside my head.
All these questions,
Not answered.
Just left on “read”
Taking up space inside my brain.
Rent free,
Causing so much pain.

I still ask,
“Why.”

Pride month.
Flags of all kind,
Hoping to find someone else,
Who wears there flag proud.
As I only have 2 friends,
Who I know,
That share there story and beliefs,
Proud.
I want to be that person too.
So I’m writing this to talk.
That it’s okay to speak up,
It’s ok to be yourself.
You don’t have to hide,
And be someone else.
Your flag.
Your beliefs.
Are you,
Your own person.
So let yourself shine.
Let yourself,
Love,
Cry,
Laugh,
Get mad,
Get upset,
Because it’s okay,
And I’ll always be here to talk.
I’ll always be by your side,
Just…
Let yourself,
have pride.

That day.
That life.
That pastime.
That fright.
When I was left,
Behind that stair,
Crying.
No one else knew I was there.
That blood.
Those bruises.
That pain,
I’ve tried to fight through it.
But the weight,
That it holds.
That the fact,
No one even knew.
Those scars.
That blood.
Dripping down my face,
Into my eyes,
Down my throat,
Blood pooling at my feet.
Sitting there,
in time of need.
That day.
That led,
To fighting,
For life.
Those flashbacks,  
Of when they pulled me into that hallway.
School.
Crime.
Turned on there “other” face,
And destroyed my hope,
That the world can be great.
That blood.
Will forever,
Remain in my memory.
That pain I felt will never be gone,
The pain that day.
That nobody noticed or saw.
That day,
Was what hurt me the most.
That day.

Thorns.
Blood.
Scars.
Pain.

Bullying.
Rumors.
Love.
Hate.

Cries.
Begging.
Pleas,
For help.

No one is listening,
No way out.
Thorns stab,
Like knifes to skin.

How will I escape?
When I’m stuck in a body I don’t want…
With health issues,
I can’t take care of.
My body giving up on me,
And I Know I’m failing within.

Spreading pain.
Of those words,
That blood,
That day.
Cold tile floor.
Lies.
Thorns stabbed me then,
left an imprint on my soul.

So know I live my life,
Stuck in a web of pain,
Being punctured with thorns.