Laying in the old creaky hospital bed
I became more immune to the sounds around me.
Monitors beeping in sync with
the squeaks and taps of soles on the floor.
So close,
So close to that light.
Just within reach. Almost, but not quite there yet.
No.
Not yet. But soon it will come and lead me into eternal darkness.
One beyond of what I’m ready for.
“What has become of me?”
My last few suns and moons barely ripped from me.
But I guess it is my fault to begin with.
With my limited time
I wondered where it all had begun.
I remember back when it was my
Tenth year.
So innocent and full of life.
Youth.
Pigtails still held my hair and dirt was my makeup.
I remember how nothing bothered me.
Not looks or weight.
Just of what flavor ice cream I wanted at the shop.
Just happiness was all I felt.
A clean pure sense really,
If you have ever really felt it any how.
I remember how I ate three meals a day
(Like at the hospital but then it was out of my own free will)
and had a full tummy.
Mom’s cooking was the best thing I’d eat
and Dads shoulders were the best place to be.
I’d play outside
Not afraid of the world and the people in it.
I had friends and a few best friends even,
but they’re all gone now.
I guess that is just what people do when you need them the most.
I remember how my grades were sky high
and people called me smart.
My parents were proud of me.
We actually talked.
Like, real conversations without the tears, screaming and the occasional broken object.
We do not have those talks anymore now.
I had felt beautiful and pretty.
Not just looked like it
but truly felt like it too.
All those summer days
filled with ice pops and burgers.
Those block barbecues were everyone
was together like friendly neighbours and had fun.
Or those beach trips when
we would stay all day, sun at it highest.
Umbrellas and sun block the only thing keeping us from getting burnt.
Even though we still would be at the end of the day.
Our sandwiches kicked with sand
and watermelon sailing down the creases of our mouths.
I remember when Christmas was the happiest time of the year.
Sparkling lights and drives around the streets to see them.
When love was the best present there was.
Family and friends together,
now just drifted apart from one another.
Most of all, I remember when I was happy.
Not just any kind of happy but a child's happiness.
The kind only found in children.
Adults and adolescents do not have that anymore
because society and people ruin it for them.
It slowly shrivels away as you start to realize theres no point in having it any more.
But children do not see that.
No.
People are afraid to destroy a child's happiness.
They are oblivious to everything else in the world.
The disgust and filth people have.
Children do not see that because of the pure veil everyone is born with.
It blinds you from everything bad and evil
and once that veil is ripped to shreds
everything becomes clear.
And you are left wondering why you did not see it before.
But people destroy
those parts of a person.
It’s kind of crazy how something
can be ripped away from you so quickly before even realizing you had it.
All the good and innocence
into a sweet bitter cold breeze.
In my thirteenth year
came the word I was unfamiliarized with.
Ugly.
It did not hurt at first
but like everything else, it eventually did.
I never truly knew what it meant at the time.
Then the next day it started to sting at little,
burning into my brain like acid.
Was it true?
Was I really this thing they labeled me as?
It started to settle.
Like mush.
It stayed and lingered with my thinking.
My first little monster.
Screaming into my mind the same thing over and over again.
It walked with me everywhere I went.
Precautions with appearance.
Comparisons everywhere.
My “little” monster growing with every step.
Feeding off my paranoia for breakfast.
Attacking my every thought.
“I’m not good enough. I never will be.”
It began to manifest, grow, and spread.
Like some sort of disease without a cure.
It only got worse from there,
because after that word came more.
Fat, ****, Disgusting, Embarrassment
Ugly
Ugly
Ugly
Now why would words be such a bother?
I mean, they are just words right?
Wrong.
They hurt and destroy people and their sanity.
I endured the pain and torture from
these letters put together to form words.
They kept coming and coming,
encasing me in a black cloud of insults and hatred.
Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw what they did.
But what did I do?
What any other teenager would have done.
Nothing.
How can you say something back to a person who attacks you?
While you are weak and defenseless .
Your walls broken down and not even being able to utter a sound.
I could have said something.
Anything.
I could have told someone, but they would not understand.
They never do.
“Just ignore them.”
They always say.
“Walk away.”
But they don’t get how hard it is to do that.
I can’t just ignore the things they throw in my way.
The ones that hurt the most.
Or maybe, I could have simply not believed them.
But what is there to believe
when that is all you're told?
How can you know any truth
when there is none?
Thats the thing though,
that was my truth. It’s all I was told.
I knew nothing else because
I started to realize it to.
My fifteenth year was when my soul took a toll.
Not for the better either.
It was the first time I wanted to unzip my veins.
But the thought of ruining beautiful skin refrained me so.
It did not stop me from thinking about it though.
I was lost and alone.
“Just like any other teenager.”
They’d say.
No one wanted to be friends with the fat ugly one.
My insecurities devoured my being.
A splash of makeup here.
A skipped meal there.
It wouldn’t hurt, right?
Especially not me.
I mean, I was going to be beautiful.
Finally.
I’ll prove them wrong.
A few pounds were dropped.
not enough
Compliment rose.
they were lies
“Wow. You lost weight.”
“You look beautiful.”
But it was not enough to mask the inner reminders.
I had to be smaller, thinner, skinnier, prettier.
Thar bikini perfect body.
Perfect makeup.
Soon I skipped two meals a day.
When no one asked,
I skipped three.
Only eating a few snacks.
But soon seeing it later in the toilet.
I was slowly starting to feel beautiful again.
My stomach was flat
and the gap in my teeth went to my thighs.
I was like all the girls around me.
No longer cast away as different but brought in as an equal.
I thought I had started to fit in with their group, in his arms, with those “friends.”
But no matter how real my happiness seemed,
it was always just for the show.
If happiness is the most honest thing felt,
then why do I feel like I’m lying?
My inner demons took over at night. Mostly because I let them.
They possessed my mind as if it was their own.
Screaming to me lullabies of hatred and songs of sorrow.
Rocking me to sleep in their claws.
Nights were the worst.
When everyone else's were for sleeping, mine were for waking.
My current year, I decided the pain was too much.
My canvas was stained red,
while my brush was the razor.
My ribs picked and poked through the light cotton shirts
I never seemed to change out of.
While other various things that used to support my body,
soon grew weak as I continuously tried to grasp for air.
Trying to teach myself to breath again.
For it seems I have long forgotten how to.
I gave up on being what I wanted because nothing mattered anymore.
All of those ¨friends¨ now long gone.
Any pieces of motivation had slipped away.
My parents believed in me as much as I did myself.
Now, eighteen and already in this place.
This is where sick people go. Maybe, I really am sick.
But I just wanted to be beautiful.
I did what I had to.
I can not conjure up what will happen after here,
but some peoples lives end in the middle of a sentence.
While for others, thats where it begins.
Maybe I’m just still waiting for my book.