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The only time I'm not stressed
Is when I've worked myself past the point of breaking

Being too tired to feel is my comfort zone
I feel so at home in running around
I don't rest while I sleep
Instead to-do lists and unfinished problems are scripted into my dreams
Using the backs of my eyelids as a whiteboard for tomorrow's tasks

I can't tell if this constant state of movement is Newton's Law
Or a feable attempt to be enough--for no one but myself

I second guess each right answer, every step forward
My thoughts get a racetrack in lieu of a bed

I know this isn't normal
So imagine what I'd do to be in the moment I'm living
Instead of the somewhere else I always am
When I love, I love big
You ask for pebbles and I give you mountains
Ask for a match and I will give you a wildfire

When you saw me you asked for my company
I gave you my heart
You A
Asked for a night and I offered you a lifetime

I gave you an ocean when you asked for a puddle and that big problem in that

Is I never asked if you could swim
I woke up in a world I don't know

For years after my trauma I have taught myself that love is not forced space between
Is not refusing to visit
Is not a message of "I'm avoiding you because I love you"
I slowly learned affection is comfortable, hugs and kisses are small signals that life is okay

Today I woke in a world where that is no longer true
I woke to a world where love means distance
Caring means avoidance
"I love you"s can be measured by the miles you refuse to travel

Today I woke up in a world where my love language has turned war-like
Though I never thought of myself as violent
A hug breaks government mandated barriers
A kiss is now biological warfare

Today I woke up to a world where my love has been labeled terroristic
While my abuse has been labeled loving
I wrote this when the first case of Covid-19 hit my state, while waiting for the conference call to tell us if we were sacrificial or safe.
Look at yourself

Squeeze any fat you have

A pinch

A handful

How much is too much?

What really is fat or skinny?

Victoria's Secret "Love My Body" campaign shows seven svelte models while Dove's "Real Beauty campaign features an array of 'Real Women' with curves in all the right places 

Both campaigns exclude most body types and show major problems with society

One shows plus sized is okay is only okay if you're plus in the right places

The other proves skinny is king

These are the standards we set for little ones to abide by

With a small bust plus wasn't an option

So I turned skeletons into goddesses 

Prayed the would teach me how not to need

Worshiped hipbones over pizza

A tiny waist over lunch

Anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any mental illness

Yet todays media forms computers in the minds of children to count calories as thought food were merely numbers

I learned how to purge from a pro Ana website when I was nine

Stuck a toothbrush down my throat and forced up dinner

Turned to laxatives at 12

Learned ill was okay if skinny was the side effect

Today I look at myself

Squeeze any fat I have

A handful

A pinch

How much is too much
A poet is made of many things
On the surface you'll see skin
Stretched across weary bones
Often with scars
Open them up and you'll see a heart
Broken, but held together with broken promises
Where their intestines should be are rivers of passion, Deep as oceans
Stomachs have been replaced with galaxies
Starlight guides them
A poet is stitches together with maybes
With could have beens and should have beens
Some poets are cities; walls built by torment, but beautiful
Some are fields of wildflowers; hearts as fickle the breeze that guides them
And others, others are oceans
Strong, yet gentle, following no one but the moon
The one thing that ties us all together in the love in our eyes despite the hurt
The way we see the world in a beautiful light no matter our trauma
What ties us all together is the fact that we
We survived
I sit on the counter, feet draped over the sink watching the sun rise over the trees through the open window
As I bring my coffee to my lips I feel the familiar chip
The one that my lips have felt every morning for years
This cup snuggles perfectly between my small hands, the warmth shielding them from the cool spring air

This cup has been through a lot
A few moves
More than a few lovers

The Alice in Wonderland decal has worn off and the seafoam enamel is cracked-- a mosaic of all the times I didn't care enough to hand wash it
The handle fell off once, I wanted to practice the Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken things with liquid gold
But I'm a college student, so glittery modge podge worked just fine

In many ways I am this cup
Used, well loved
Slightly broken, held together with glitter and good intentions
I don't mind the cracks
In the cup or in me
Cracks show that you are strong, can handle whatever is thrown at you, heartbreak or linoleum
They also allow light in
To brighten when darkness is all you can seem to find

As I reach the last sips of my coffee the sun is well up
My cats are hungry and I'm running late
Some days it's worth tardiness to reconnect to a part of you you thought was lost

Today is one of those days
You wanted to be immortal
Spent your days searching for the fountain of youth
Hoping to make a deal with the devil
But my love you've succeeded you mission
The answer was simple
To be immortal all you had to do
Was break a poets heart
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