The map of our country is stained in cranberry juice
the streets are red with blood
and in the south red flags hang like ignorance
or like all those sentenced the death penalty

isn't red such an American color

The plush of my ***** waist and thighs attempt to pop every hemline and button in my wardrobe
My body is to Wholesome my flesh is too engulfing
and for this I roll over each elastic and my thighs Bust from my stockings
and my love handles and stomach squeeze over my waistline
and my back and my ******* make Pillsbury roll bra straps
and it looks like there's so much extra meat in too small a sausage tube
and it looks like I just kept blowing into the balloon
and I don't feel too big and I don't feel like my clothes are too small
and my body just doesn't fit in them the way they used to
I feel like how beautiful must I be to have this much extra to give that my stockings can't even hold the juice of my thighs
and my pants spill over with so much good batter
and my back rolls like Silk have the luxury of keeping my back from being straight like a board

for I do not know what I would do with a smaller body
if I could feel my leg bones and see my ribs if there was a gap in between my thighs if my hips protruded taking my pants along with them if my collars made soup bowls.
I dread what I would do with such a hard body how would such hard edges fill out these worshiping stockings

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

It's a crazy thing
love, fear, instinct, self preservation, human interaction.
I loved you for so long
and the thought of losing you killed me.
I thought, surely,
if you were gone
I wouldn't be able to survive
if you were taken away from me, that is.
But when I chose to leave,
everything becomes okay, for me at least.
you were still gone
but it was my choice
and you don't affect me anymore.
Isn't it so strange
how the simple choice
of you being taken or me letting go
is the difference between acceptance
and depression.

Depression,
It's like living but feeling lifeless,
having an heart but feeling it hollow.
Its like being free
But being trapped in your own mind.
You are not suicidal but want to disappear.
Its feeling lonely when everyone are around you.
Having insecurities even though you're beautiful.
Its when you lose your smile
Cause your too caught up in your mind.
Its that moment when your past and present
Mistakes replay.
The moment when you start to feel suffocated Like all the air is removed from you.
When you suddenly start crying but have no idea why.
You start to feel worthless,
You start the harm yourself,
You slowly lose yourself to your inner demons,
You feel ugly and lonely,
It's in that point of time you start to fake smile and say , "I'm Okay" only because you are broken but don't wanna explain it cause it's all too much.
Yep that's depression
and we are all victims to it at some point of time.