You're knuckles were paintbrushes,
My skin your flinching canvas.

You said a man never forgets his first redhead,
What color are my eyes?

You once told me love is pathetic.
Love sounds just like you.

I was your crutches when your heart was breaking
I was your scarf and gloves to keep you warm in the winter.
But when the sun came
You didn't need me.
When your heart healed,
You tossed aside your crutches
And I waited for the cold to come
Leaving your heart broken
begging for warmth and support.

The water swirls around my head,
I think so much I should be dead.

When I was a little girl I loved going to the fair.
seeing the clowns
rides
and carnies.
but my favorite thing to see at the fair is the fun house
Remember those?
Where mirrors flooded the walls bending towards you
distorting the image you saw to one of absurd portions
Nose swelling larger
legs shrinking
hips inflating.
I loved seeing the shapes my body could take.
...I haven't been to a fun house in years.
And even if I went I know the mirrors would look like those that hang in my room.
Body dysmorphia is it's own fun house
one full of insecurities and self-hate.
It makes regular mirrors bend my perception of reality.
Makes my stomach bloat
thighs inflate
cheeks widen
eyes shrink
My mind has turned into a trapeze act
And I don't know if i want it to stop.

For our anniversary
you gave me a rope necklace
Then got angry when i started
chocking on
my
words.