You asked me how my body felt, and I said congealed,
A little rotten,
A little broken down,
Apprehended by my own mistakes,
In a place I don't belong,
Stagnant,
You asked me how I felt about my body and I said
Mortified,
Physically dead,
Damaged,
Insufficient,
You started to say but, and I knew where you were going,
"But you're beautiful, but you're thin, but you're perfect, but I love you, but I just because the mirror shows me doesn't me I have to believe it"

Sometimes I wish I could order expressions the way you order drinks in a cheesy bar on main street of any city.
Hi, I'd like an appreciating smile,
I'd like a sympathetic nod,
A pessimistic stare-down,

Bottle affection and affliction,
Understanding and underestimation,
Love and lothing,
Pain and assumptions,
Longing and wisdom,
Serve mixed drinks of mixed feelings,
With dinners full of clarity,

Get people drunk on emotions and ideas
Make people feel.

Death grip clasped faithfully together,
A portal from my lips to whoever it is that's listening
If anyone is listening,
Maybe help can come along and clasp itself around these hands,
still purple from holding on too tight,
the only relief in distant worlds,
maybe letting go is more about fingers than hearts,
mine seems to be stuck beating in a path to nowhere,
tracing the pale veined lines in my palm,
tinted nails clawing away tears,
leaving slashes of red on my cheek,
slightly browned knuckles seem to crack,
cracked eggs,
cracked skull,
don't think!
rivers of memories,
hands in a stream,
summer breeze,
catching fish with our bare palms,
can't let go,
pushed on a swing,
"don't push to hard or I might fall"
air rushing past me still waiting for the crash,
layers deep and peeling away,
palms skun raw
and I'm bleeding
crimson teardrops tracing the paths to nowhere

It became an addiction
with every one came another
another blood stain in my diary
Another pill to swallow to subdue the pain of the next,
another flame against my still raw flesh
racing myself toward the finish line of my own life
embossing my skin with a map of moments
Little pink scars
like the pink of the sunset
the pink in his eyes
I never liked pink or brown
but in his eyes they were perfect
But when that pink changed colour
Green when he's angry
Orange when he is someone he's not supposed to be
A burnt reminder that old habits don't die
Merely reborn as another
I used to burn myself,
The smell of burning flesh still puts me on edge
Relapse loses all meaning
Maybe it'll welcome me back like an old friend
That friend I never wanted
But still managed to have
Didn't notice I was slowly killing myself
poisoned stomach with diet pills
Losing ten pounds a week
75 pounds at 5 foot 2 and still fat
'You're petite that's a good thing' he told me
Swallowing handful after handful
A month of force feeding by my family and I realized he was wrong,
all it took was a heart break
it all started again
an new addiction
hand to scalp in my sleep
tearing out bits of hair
and you wonder why I cut it
a year later I began biting
bite by Bit by bit by bite taking myself away
Because once again there was too much
Always too much
But somehow I've never been enough for anyone else

Your arm
wrapped careless but cautiously over my shoulder, felt RIGHT to me,

My head
pressed softly into your chest hearing every beat of your heart, felt RIGHT to me,

Curling into one another so naturally in the back seat of the bus, FELT right to me,

Our tickle war
Which I totally won, felt right to ME,

Glancing into your eyes when I thought you weren't looking felt right to me,

when you caught me looking
Still so lost in them, that all I could say was hi, it felt RIGHT to me,

Your arms wrapped tightly around me felt RIGHT to me

Those kisses slow and gentle felt RIGHT to me,

Flirtatious smiles in the hallway,
Hugs when we could,
It took me two days to realize I was still lost in your eyes,
Though I had been scared to look in them,
I remembered the,
Soft brown squinted slightly,
Smiling without your mouth,
A mouth of etched stone,
Because my tickling you was "not fun for you"
Though you tickled back,
All felt as real as being thrown through a brick wall onto a bed of cotton candy,

Reality felt so good for once,
Proximity felt great for once,
Having you was amazing,
So when you say it’s the wrong time,
That there are hard things going in  your life, I get that
But I don’t see why that makes it any less right,
I want to be there for you like you were there for me the day we curled up in the back of the bus, when you made everything right

Don’t tell me this is a love poem
It’s a you poem
A you and me poem
my entire life intertwined in the keys I press
Fingers bent backwards over the words
under the pressure to do something right
pull back
crack fingers
shake them out
type
right clicking the right impressions
face mimicking the emoticons
I type
stop
read through
send
only allowing myself minute reactions
laughing. crying, smiling, sighing
all well replying that I love you
when you say it back chills run through my skin stopping at my waist where It feels like you would hold me,
I wanna ask you to hold me
your arms don’t stretch the distance
I know this but
Now all I’m wanting to ask is did you see that shooting star tonight?
were you dazzled by the same constellations?
Did you and Jupiter conspire to get me?
I think you and the moon and Neptune got it right..
and at night just as the sun starts to set I yell at the clouds asking why everything good seems to happen to me
but you’re so far away?
I wonder if you do it too but
don’t tell me this is a love poem when I can’t feel your heart beating?
but I know there is a map of your life etched into your skin
I have one too
I know there is a dimple in your smile
though I’ve never seen you smile
I hope I make you smile
you make me smile
I never used to smile
I just said smile six times
you see what you’ve done to me
I’ve almost worn the paint off the keys spelling love
by talking to you but the pattern’s still the same
I love you
I love you
I love you
I remember the stutter you typed one day
i-I love you
like you couldn’t say it
a forbidden emotion
still as real as anything else
the almost imperceptible catch in your voice the day you said it on the phone
but I heard it
I—love you
almost as if you were afraid I wouldn’t say it back
or I wouldn’t mean it when I said it back
I LOVE YOU TOO
but this is not a love poem,
it’s just you

Sorry


I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this...
but ma,
can you UN-**** my father?
bring me "outta this world!" like the one night stand that brought me in.
or, well, what was supposed to be a one night stand.
which happened to turn into four years of his constant drunken stupor,
and then transformed into every other sunday for 5 years,
excluding the ones where he was too drunk to remember to show up of course,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask this,
but ma,
can you lower your expectations of me,
I'll never live up to them, or in my opinion live down to them.
That wasn't meant to be an insult, I just don't want to be you.
I don't want to spend my entire life stressed-out behind a desk,
And I don't want to know how to fix every problem but the ones that matter
because they matter,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
But life,
can you stop giving me good things,
I like being happy, doesn't everyone?
but I ruin everything good thing that I get,
it's like subconsciously I want to rip my own ******* throat out and serve it to myself on a platter,
Eat up… it'll **** ya!
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
But is there a way to stitch a broken heart
put me back together,
wait I take that back,
don't,
I'll just get torn apart.
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this
but me
can I put my throat back in for a sec
Give myself a chance at happiness for a change
stop stopping myself when I have a shot at something good
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this
but life
I changed my mind
I want something good
Can I have that be on rushed delivery?
no
oh well i'd just ruin it anyway
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this
but me
can you stop putting yourself down
no wonder you can do anything right
Can I do something right?
I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this,
but,
it's not that bad things happen to good people,
bad things happen to everyone,
it's just that your definition of a tragedy is not getting your hair straight enough,
not getting the new phone you want,
my tragedy is seeing that someone I care about is hurt,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this ,
but do you even care about me?
can't you see i'm hurt?
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
but ,
can ya'll stop looking at me like i'm hurt,
It's not on the outside,
you won't be able to see it,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
But can I just hug you,
no not you,
sorry .
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
but can you all just shut the **** up,
sometimes I want to listen to my thoughts,
or you know that scottish guy in my head,
he's pretty cool,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
but Scottish guy in my head,
Can you Shut the **** up,
I want to know what other people have to say,
I want to say what I have to say without being interrupted by myself,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this,
But me,
Can we stop contradicting myself,
uhm eh a wait,
Can I stop contradicting ourself,
uhm uh erm uhnn
You know what,
Can I just stick with a thought instead of fighting for both sides,
I'd be perfect for debate team, if it was a one person debate that is,
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this
but
Can I stop fighting with myself?
can I have real feelings without telling myself they are fake?
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this
but
are these feelings real?
I'm sorry to be the one to ask you this
but world
can you stop ******* me over
can you stop ******* me over
can you stop ******* me over
Can you stop?
I'm sorry