First, you choke on an easy mouthful of air, gasping in over and over but feeling more light-headed all the while
Second, you close your eyes, taste the terror rising up the back of your throat and blocking the air from going down
Third, you shatter, feel your body falling apart and realize with a vengeance how delicate your life is
Fourth, the panic starts. you shake, scream, sob, curl up or lash out while it grabs hold of your nerves and bends your body to it's will
Fifth, you find some breath. maybe someone is helping you. maybe you're helping yourself. a wave of calm displaces every other feeling.
Sixth, you lose your body. your mind floats in a pool of nothingness while your body runs out of primitive instinct. your calm turns to numb.
Seventh, you blink. you breathe. you remember what it feels like to be in control of your body again. you drink some water, or sleep, or both. your head hurts. your mind drifts between your body and the ether. you wipe your face and try to remember what it's like to not be having an attack.
Eighth, you can't remember, because it never seems to end. you accept it. you refuse it. you hate it. you cry. your chest gets tight.

My smile is a collapsed lung of fake-ness
that I breath harder every lingering moment
of my existence.  Mutilating my cogitation
seeing the world in blurs of repetition.

I'm awoken by the pain of visualizations that
will not heed my alone time. But follow me
to that place that should be of silence. Instead
I scream in disillusion, as darkness was my escape.

There words are like raindrops of acid, and my
forest of thoughts wither upon the constant
onslaught of their needing to belittle me in the
presence of others. My branches fall frail to my side.

Others in shame, not a word spoken. No breeze to
hinder the hurricane of illusions that repeatedly
impact on my subconscious place. I'm silent like
a tomb of sorrows, I bury myself inward and deep.

I made my first mistake today, as they like a well
oiled clock, blood hound hunters of my scent find me.
In a moment I heed to my anger and clench my fist,
and then I'm blooded on the floor by there disbelief.

What is life? a moment of breathes that heed in our
existence. Is that what this is called? I collect tears in
threads of and bind them. This is my tears of pain
that I now hang from, pity me now as I only hear silence.

Don't love your food less because you want him to love you more. When he holds your hipbones in his hands, he is not holding your heart.

2. Delicate flowers can't survive on water alone. Don't drop yourself into a skinny vase until you wither. You deserve so much more.

3. Don't confine yourself to the scars on your thighs; you are more than that.

4. If you feel insignificant, sketch stars on your skin. Do not count them. You have created a universe on your body. As you live, planets are born. Stars implode. You are so powerful.

5. When your eyes scan your reflection for flaws, know that you will always find them. This does not make you terrible. The stripes on your hips are there because you are alive and your universe is expanding.

6. When your best friend is admitted to hospital, reassure her. Tell her she is beautiful. When she does not believe you, hold her quietly.

7. When you are admitted to hospital, let Mom cry. When she tells you you're beautiful, try to believe her. Let her hold you quietly.

8. Do not hand onto his words. You mean so much more than "******."

9. Do not count the calories you eat. Count the smiles and the tears and every time the sun lights your face. Do not count the calories you eat.

10. By the time you write this, you will have made a decision. Reading this, I know it seems like the road to hell never ends. But when you get to write this poem, you know that it does.

Because you turn around and walk away.

I want to write your name in the stars
I want to summit a mountain and shout my love until my lungs are empty
I want to write you sonnets and songs and letters that everyone hears

I want to be able to hold your hand as we walk down the street

Because as I cradle your face in my palms, it's like i'm reading your heart in your eyes, a book only I am allowed to see.
Your arms are home for me, your voice holds my peace.

I want to walk into your life, holding your hand,
Meet your parents and family as more than just a friend.

Because I will love you until my body is frail and my soul is slipping.
Until my eyes begin to dim and I slowly wither, but in the end I'll still be holding your hand.

I want to see the sparkle in your eye when I introduce you as my wife
I want that feeling in my chest when you call me your spouse
I want our love to be open and accepted
I want to finish this poem without people trying to make it straight.

Because even though I know people are going to force their idea of "normal" at us
Hurt us and deny us,
Even though I know it will be difficult, still
I want to step in to public,
Proudly holding your hand

maybe it's because i am not satisfied with who i am
maybe it's because i've fallen so from where i use to be
maybe it's because i let myself fall in love
maybe it's because i learned friendship, and trust, and hope and
with learning all these things, there was a consequence
a consequence that wasn't mine to serve
it's because after knowing what these concepts were,
it was impossible but to not notice their absence
i am not sad because of my unresolved trauma, i am sad because my coping skills were people and people leave
and sadness is present
sadness does not pause for you
sadness does not let you prepare
sadness rips into your chest and makes its home there
i'm sad because i'm not my own reason to live
i'm sad because i want to stay sad
because it's safe
because it's the only constant in my life