I wear all my valuables
because I trust no one around me.

I wear them when I shower and sleep
because I know when she and they see

an opportunity,
they will grab, and they will steal,

until everything in which I have put care
is gone, until it all is demolished in their hands.

I'm sitting here.

I have 17 extra strength tylenol.
I am 95 lbs of skin and bone.
For the last week I have thought about this,
This moment that I could be free.
That man took the last of my worth with him,
When he slammed me to the ground.
There is nothing left inside of me.
My heart isn't beating for me anymore.
It is beating for this foreign presence.
I see his his dark shadow when I close my eyes.
I can't walk anywhere and hear the footsteps behind me.
I am tired of fighting.
I am giving up.
I have 17 extra strength tylenol.
And I am ready to swallow.

Tonight I was hit by a man I do not know
Now I am truly left with nowhere to go
I can't quite wrap myself into comfort
I can't quite make myself feel anything
All I feel is my cheekbone swelling
I hope that no one can tell

I'm sorry my words get jumbled
flailing off of my tongue as if
I've just learned to speak.
they're all so calculatedly stoic,
yet so simultaneously messy
with the secrets
that slip out of my lips.
and I'm sorry that when i say
the things I'm meant to say,
they aren't the words
you want to hear.

I HATE IT!!!!
How my emotions can now get the best of me.
All it takes is one sad show, one sad movie, one sad:
story,
book,
life tale,
song,
I don’t even need some sad trigger and I am at the beginning again  standing at a shore that looks into a vast sea.
An: angry,
sad,
depressed,
dying and in agony ocean with each fish holding some sort of painful memory.  No this sea is not calm.
Each time I think I am getting better, WRONG, I am just a ticking time bomb.
Yep, that is right I just EXPLODE, BOOM!
Do you want to know what it feels like?
Well guess what, I will tell you anyway:
you are decaying from the inside out,
your heart feels like it is on fire and melting onto your rib cage, dripping on each and every other *****,
your brain thinking so many things at such an accelerated rate you can hardly make it out but at same time it is thinking nothing,
you are in so much pain you can not even shout, even harder to type these words down, I probably sound like a clown.
Tears? FORGET IT, you ran out of those long ago.
I always tell myself:
there are people who have had it worst than I, it is true I can not deny.
Look at me though, this is PITIFUL.
I envy:
those who cut themselves,
or try to commit suicide.  
They get help, they can not hide.
It is funnier because if you saw me on a street this is not what you would see.
I would be as happy as a bumblebee.

I get so much judgment for talking about you
and what you taught me,
what you saved me from,
what you have inspired within me.

I am even given judgment when I tell others
of the times when you protected me
from my peers,
and even from myself.

You don't even know my history of
physical self-harm.
You only know how I put myself through misery
without a care.  I won't ask for help.

You're my hero because
I didn't need to ask for help,
you gave it regardless.
And I get judged for telling people that.

Granted, I talk of it a lot,
but you mean the world as a hero should.
I won't stop talking about you.
In a week, I get to see you.

You don't want me to come back,
because you think it'll be best to stay away.
Stay away and detach from that place for a bit.
But I can't not see a friend when I can.

I want to catch up, to talk with you,
to not face the judgment I face every single day
from every single person I know.

You are my hero,
I will never forget it.
You were there when no one else was.
Hero, I won't forget you.

I live in moments purely in the pursuit of one-liners
I reach out for someone to love me
For upwards of thirty seconds, only to never have quite the same sensation again
I simply crave - certainty

I want to drink the devil's water until I can't drink any longer
I'll dab it on my lips and hold the taste there for hours
I want someone to hold me and tell me things are fine-
That I'll figure them out

I want someone to cling to me in a drunken stupor- as if they needed me
It's an upward battle- because even I don't need me
But I need someone
I need someone to need me

Not now, not ever
Have I ever felt anything but disposable
And for what?
Can someone guide me in the direction where I may correct myself?
What am I doing incorrectly?
I am dumpster trash in the form of a girl
I'm a wasteland in the form of a human shell
Such a pity- because no one could politely explain
How things could be different for me

If I just shed a few
Pounds or brain cells
Maybe I could be good enough for someone
And not particularly in a romantic way
Though that, like most humans I crave
Where are my friendships?
I am not so deserving

If only someone could guide me
Into being the one that others would be proud to call their best in secret
And would leave me with a joyful tear on my pillowcase each night
A shame that no one has the hour to even endure that alongside someone such as myself


Jesus ******* Christ! I hate myself
And that just might be the only sliver of certainty I may see

Regretting something said or done
In sobriety
While ******.
Mostly social interactions I suppose
Things I think I shouldn't speak,
Maybe its just me.
Why can't I see the common line
That divides this communal collective
Of what's generally perceived as
Normal.
Maybe its just not in me.
And maybe something's
                                                          Missin­g.
Like its
                 Not
                             Quite
     ­                                       T h e r e .
But nowhere else,
Either.
So maybe if you make me a
Map
Of the way humans should stay on path
I should take it
Like everyone else but I'm gonna have to
Pass on that
Because it would still only be just
As useless as the next thing
Or other
Neither will stitch the pathways like veins
To a translucent permeable
Sieve of a person
Cause these preset standards and demands
Are too much to ask for
The place of blood in these
Hollow vessels.
I should know,
See I've bled myself dry.
I'll scratch at my scars when they itch
But I'll ditch your insistent opinion about it,
Cause I don't need that ****,
Don't need nothin' and not needed.
Just stuck in between lines
On this compass of life
The clock of time
And the lines in my skin.
Wearing the world with
Mirrors for eyes.
Stare in all you like
There's nothing behind
But the knowing I'll never fully describe
Anything to anyone
In a way that is what I mean;
It isn't words that fail me,
But my unfathomable capacity to
Comprehend at all, and if I
Were to conceive a consciousness
Could I ever really communicate to you?
I don't think so, but
I won't ever know.
...
I wonder what sober me
Would say right now.