I want my arms and legs
To know what it's like
To turn into vine
To tangle with yours admist bedsheet and skin
Want my eyes
To know
How to open up
To something other than darkness
Forget getting lost in despair
Have them get lost in yours instead
Want my shoulders
To know how it feels
To twist into something
Other than knot
To melt into smooth
Into comfort
Want my hands
To know
What warmth feels like
When it doesn't burn
Want my body
To know
How to let down its guard
How to mold from armor into flesh
From metal into cells
Back into human
Want my body
To learn to its ability
To hold on
Without fear
Of letting go
And I
Want to be able
To hold on
Without the fear
Of being let go.

What is real poetry?
John 3:16
*for God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son
So that whoever believes on him shall not parish
But have eternal life

Is that the lowest moment?
When you don't dare to wear shorts because of the scars that cover your legs.
And then you're sitting there at the dinner table with your family,
And they keep on telling you to eat,
But all you mutter is "I'm not hungry",
When you actually are.
You're starving but your image is worth more than a meal.
You eat a few bites just to shut them up,
And then run to the bathroom to rid yourself of it,
To make sure you can fit into those jeans,
The ones that could stand you losing another 5 pounds.
You get used to the lies of:
"I'm not hungry"
"I ate before I came"
And "oh yeah I'm fine, just tired".
Is that your lowest point,
When the only food you're feeding yourself is lies?

its been
moments since I thought about you
in any capacity
minutes since
I remembered some portion of our story
hours since I felt anger
days since I tried to pick up my phone
weeks since I last contacted you
months since we last touched.

its been

months since you crushed me
weeks since I put on the brave face
days since I longed for you
hours since I spoke of you
minutes of starring into a blank screen
silently pleading
moments before all this is behind me again.

It’ll be

Moments of weakness
when I think about “us”
Minutes of silent cursing
while you run through my mind
Hours of rationalizing
before I let it go
Days of depression

I know

Weeks of emotions crammed into a few minutes
Months of self doubt and insanity

Soon it’ll be

years

But I’ll always have


the



tears.