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 Sep 2013 Amy Denison
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Suffocating
 Sep 2013 Amy Denison
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Tears fall like raindrops
Like leaves fall from trees
Birds sing their melody
As they fly into the sky
Oh the beauty of nature
It seems so fascinating
The endless fresh air
But still I find myself

Suffocating.
© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Sep 2013 Amy Denison
Claire E
There's nothing glamorous
About kneeling on the cold bathroom floor
Staring into the toilet
At your dinner
With a finger down your throat
And an imaginary gun to your head  
Trying to quiet your heaving
So your family doesn't wonder
And not stopping until you are empty
Until you are sure that every ounce of your enemy that we call food is out of your body
The same body your mother spent hours and hours pushing out of her so your beauty could be shared with this word
Your body which was once a vessel for beauty and love
But has now become a vessel for your self hatred and distruction
No
There's nothing glamorous
About staring into the mirror
After its all said and done
Looking into your blood shot eyes
Searching for something that was lost when you rid yourself of that food
Running your hands under warm water  
Trying to wash away the scent and shame
But no matter how hard you scrub
No matter how much soap you use
No matter how strong the water pressure is
They linger
And linger
And linger
No
There's nothing glamorous  
About your mother looking at you with tear filled eyes
And asking if you're doing "it" again
Because she can't even stomach to say what "it" is
Almost like you can't stomach the thought of being away from a toilet for more than a few hours
And all you reply with is a dishonest no
You watch as she slowly dies inside
Because she knows no means yes
And she pleads with you
"Why" she cries
And you don't even bother to answer
Because even as sick as you are you know how twisted your reasoning is
No
There's nothing glamorous
About your life revolving around the next time you can get to a toilet
When all you can think about is that next purge
That next release
That next cleanse
Because when you purge you're not only purging your food
But you're purging all those thoughts of stopping, all those thoughts of getting better
When that food hits the water those thoughts quiet
All you hear is "get it out" "get it all out"
They are silenced by your need to be perfect
To be thin
No
There's nothing glamorous
About soar throats
And mouth soars
Scared knuckles
And puffy cheeks
No
There's nothing glamorous
About slowly destroying your body
Your body which is now just a peetry dish for your sick thoughts
Everyday
From the inside
Out
Trust me
I know
I stopped writing to deal with things... I just stopped caring. But today I realized I need to start again, it's as good as any therapy and I missed it too much to stop.
She draws a narrow black line
On the outside of her eye.
"It keeps me awake", she said
But that was merely a lie.

Eyelashes covered thick,
Defined and long
To even-out the contrast
Of that black line she put on.

The day rolls by slowly,
That black line starts to fade.
Her eyelashes erode,
Yet no notice has she made.

She spies her reflection,
Screams for a bathroom - or a booth?
It isn't that long before
She discovers the truth.

There was no narrow black line
On the outside of her eye,
Though she still looked beautiful
And it eased her troubled mind.
Wrote this a few years back, it's hardly a literary work of genius but special to me none the less.
 Sep 2013 Amy Denison
James Bakas
**** the pain
Block it out
Fill my veins
Hide my doubt

Suffocate me
Throw me away
Cut me to bits
Watch as I fray

Hold this against me
Point it at my head
Pull the ******* trigger
I'll only be dead

Now as I die
Watch me be free
This is what you wanted
Why can't you see!
 Sep 2013 Amy Denison
James Bakas
Loneliness is the beginning
Death is the end
I tried to tell you
Don't even pretend

You left me there
Just me alone
You didn't seem to care
Now I'm on my own

The pain is real
My thoughts alive
This fear consumes
As I fight to survive
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
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