It's the girls who love the most who feel the least loved in this world

Psychological issues?

Sure.

I've got plenty.

I don't know exactly when it started
But some time ages ago
During elementary school
I just felt so worthless
Like I was numb
I wanted to feel
But I didn't know how
And it wasn't a sharp pain
I would welcome a sharp pain
It was dull ache that wouldn't leave me
I froze in my own icy thoughts
Maybe it was the loneliness
Or all the things those girls said to me
Maybe it was the insults or the whispers
Or maybe it was just my twisted mind
But whatever the cause
I tried to **** myself
When I was just a little 11 year old girl
When some girls were still playing with Barbies in secret
I was secretly playing with knives and ropes
I would take that blade
And scratch a cut into my wooden headboard
One slit in the wood for every moment that I wanted to die
Because I was too young back then to even think of my wrist
That came later
A few years later
And still
There are days where I just feel so horrible and sad and broken
For absolutely zero reason
It doesn't make sense
Nothing bad is even happening
But I feel shattered
I spent a year feeling so. hollow.
So f!cking hollow
I felt like I couldn't breathe
Like I wasn't alive
I spent entire days
Not speaking
I still miss the cuts sometimes, honestly
I like my scars
Which sounds terrible
But I trace them with my fingernails absentmindedly some days
During the darker nights
It comforts me
Because even though I’m not going to cut myself ever again
I can jolt myself into remembering the pain
And it is a form of relief in itself
I don’t know
Not something I can explain
Is that depression?
Probably not though, I feel bad suggesting it in front of people who actually for sure have depression when I haven't been analyzed
But still, it's not impossible I guess

I spent 5 years
From grade 5 through to grade 9
Which is pretty **** young
Feeling fat
Hating my body
Hating myself
I can see my ribs but I still feel fat
It’s okay I can fix that
Eating a little less
Skip a meal
Just skip lunch
Just eat a tiny breakfast, no lunch
No breakfast, no lunch but it’s okay because I have a good dinner
I think I’m losing weight
Is it bad that I’m in grade 5 and thinking like this?
This is great
I think it’s working
I’m in grade 6 now
Maybe I won’t be worthless if I become skinny
I can still see my ribs
I could from the beginning
But I still feel fat
Okay, less dinner now
Hide it well
Let’s switch
No lunch, a little dinner and a bit of breakfast
Just enough to stay alive
Although how much to I really want to stay alive?
Fat.
Look at my legs
Look at their legs
My thighs God I hate my thighs
Eat less
Eat less and less
Until I’m basically surviving on snacks and just the beginnings of each meal
Just enough to take a few bites before they leave the room for a minute
Just long enough for me to throw away my food
But I don’t think I’m losing weight
I will never be enough
7th grade
Just a little less
Don’t tell any of them
Losing pounds
Check my reflection
I still feel fat
I try to be less so I can feel like I’m more
But does the number on the scale even matter anymore?
I’m promising and promising I ate before I came
But these pretty little lies are driving even me insane
And they can’t see through my smile they can’t figure it out
I’m slowly killing myself
From the inside out
Pretty soon, “I don’t feel well” is my favorite phrase and an everyday thing
A justification for my small portions that I don’t finish
It’s true though
I don’t feel well
I feel worthless.
It continues into 8th and 9th grade
Worse and worse
Looking up the calories of different food
Surviving on water and tea
Just enough food to stay alive
Though I really don’t care that much about my own survival, really
Is that anorexia nervosa?
I doubt it
But it’s a possibility I guess

I look in the mirror
And I feel so f!cking ugly
I literally cannot find ONE thing I like about myself
I cannot leave the house without makeup
Because I am SO ashamed of my own face
I genuinely feel bad for the people who have to see my face
I cry sometimes, because I look in the mirror and see my own worthless hideousness
I remember that sleepover I was invited to with the popular girls and I wondered why
When I got locked in a closet, got soap sprayed in my mouth and locked outside in the freezing cold snow without pants on when I was just trying to change into my night clothes
That’s when I knew I had been invited just so they could torment me
I don’t like being the entertainment for the party
I tried to just go to sleep because if I called home I would look like a coward
And my mother who NEVER let me go to sleepovers would get to say “I told you so”
And when they thought I was asleep
But I wasn’t
I listened to them talk for a full hour
My eyes on the clock
My ears on their conversation
“Is she asleep”?
I didn’t know they were talking about me until I heard them mention my name
When they talked for a full f!cking hour
In detail
About why I was ugly
On what levels I was ugly
The degree of my ugliness
I didn’t cry
I didn’t sit up and tell them I could hear them
It would be too humiliating
I listened
And I know they are right
But now it’s getting bad
My face doesn’t even look human to me anymore
It looks like some sort of beastly troll’s face
It looks f!cking hideous
My mother is worried about me
Because I can’t even look myself in the mirror when I have no makeup on
Because I Freak. Out when it is suggested that I might have to be in public without hiding my ugly face in makeup
It literally affects my ability to function properly in everyday life.
The thing is, those girls said it
And they ALL agreed
So if I REALLY had dysmorphia
Then it would all be in my mind
And if they all agreed I was hideous
Then I must be
So how can it be imagined?
I don’t know
Anyway
My point is
I suppose
MAYBE
It is possible
I have dysmorphia

But
Depression
Anorexia Nervosa
Dysmorphia

Those possible diseases of the mind
I
Have multiple
Psychological issues

BUT OCD IS NOT F!CKING ONE OF THEM

How dare he suggest such a thing
Just because I
“Always seem to be working towards something”
Excuse me for not getting drunk and high and naked
Putting off work
Not caring about anything
It’s not OCD though
It’s just called going somewhere in life
Because I may as well
Since in my mind
I’m hopelessly lost

I'm going out for a bit
No, just up the hill
I won't be long
Don't worry
I know it's dark out, but I'll be okay
I can see the house from there

Of course what I mean is

I need a break from my family
No, I'm just going somewhere quiet and dark
I'll take as long as I need
Leave me alone
Yeah, of course it's dark, that's why I like it. Just shut up and let me be
I'm not even far away, you're overreacting!

Six missed calls, but I have my earbuds in and my music blasting
The same song on repeat
I came to write poetry, maybe some song lyrics
This is the pen I stole from the library
I scribble with it but the stupid thing won't write
It's freaking Broken
Now I know how He felt
He stole my freaking heart just to find out that it was already Broken
I hate being Broken
All I wanted was to come here and write
But I get lost in the tune
I finish drinking my sugarless chai tea that I brought with me
Every time I tip my head back to take a sip, I see the stars better
Forget writing, for just half an hour
Forget life
Forget school, and work, and deadlines and everything
Just forget it all
Let it go
Look at the beautiful stars
Pulling up my knee high boots
I get over my paranoia of being watched, or stalked
Nobody is hiding behind the tree or in the shadows, waiting to pounce
No one is going to attack me while I'm sitting on this bench in the darkness in the late evening
I'll be fine
I watch the winter frost along the tips of the grass sparkle and shimmer
The stars are so magnificent
I put the same song on repeat
A song that doesn't tell a clear story, but I can relate to any situation
I've listened to it since elementary school
And here I am years and years later
It is still saving me from myself
I am feeling broken and hollow
I hate myself, I hate life, I hate hating my face, I hate feeling so worthless
But forget that for a minute
I stop checking the time and I ignore the strange looks I get from the residents in the windows of the houses surrounding this little park area watching me and wondering why I'm out here so late all alone
I'm ugly, I'm cold, I'm stupid, I'm a waste of space
I don't deserve life
I don't deserve to talk to anyone
I don't deserve to annoy anyone with my existence
I don't deserve respect, or love, or loyalty or happiness
I think this daily.
I feel bad about freaking cars having to go to the trouble of stopping for me even when I have right of way at a crosswalk
But I have on my black comfy leggings
My black tank top,
My black slouchy cardigan
My black knit tuque
My lips are still slightly stained a faded red from this morning
My eyes are heavily outlined in black
The black is comfy for me
It makes me feel safer
I blend in with the night
I feel happier when I put all the black I have inside, on the outside instead
It's always better to externalize the darkness
Somehow, even though it looks pretty depressing, it helps
I stand up and begin pacing
I turn up the music and inhale, deeply
The winter air bites at my lungs, stinging my skin with its bitter icy fingertips
I let the cold seep into my breathing
To freeze all that burning self-loathing
I force a smile on my face
Somehow, in this dim starlight
I can see Peace so much better than in the sunlight
I breathe so deeply in until I can't intake anymore air
My lungs are at their limit
The smile I'm forcing stops being forced as the winter air and the music's melody washes away all those horrible Broken feelings
A strange feeling overtakes me as I wander around, pacing in spirals with my head tipped upwards, my eyes dancing along the constellations and the shining moon
Maybe the moon isn't whole tonight, but it still shines bright
Maybe I'm not whole, but that doesn't mean I can't shine bright
My phone is ringing, but forget that.
I can't stop smiling, I'm walking around in curvy lines my eyes staring up in wonder, my arms slightly spread
I'm happy
Oh my gosh, I'm happy
I almost laugh, I can't believe the burden is lifted.
The car pulls up, and I realize I've been gone longer than I meant
They've been searching for me.
They're angry, but I'm inexplicably happy
I smile and nod, then saunter home, my music still playing
The Happy feeling doesn't linger too long, but even when it fades out,
For the rest of the night
I'm left in a neutral state
Not *my neutral state, which is just sadness,
But a happy person's neutral state
Truly not unhappy
Peace.
That's all I wanted.
And I got it, tonight.

sometimes things get blurry and i stand up dizzy,
wondering in what world this might feel like reality
and when i turn around or focus back in on what i like to look at most
it's still his hands
so i'm not just dreaming, right?
every mixed signal or forehead to desk kind of day
makes me wonder how much life counts when you're wishing it away

ambulance sirens wail.
as i stagger to the door.
dried up tears stain my cheeks.
pills scattered on the floor.

bruises cover my body,
and i can barely breathe.
remembering your final words,
as i begged you not to leave.

my head is pounding,
my stomache turns,
all of my insides ache and burn.

they rush me to the hospital.
where i sit on a hard cot, with nothing
but a thin blanket,
no i've never felt more alone.
im treated like a prisoner here.
you'd think that i'd feel more at home.

she is so lonely
sitting over there
in the corner by
herself
her so called friends
are more worried about
themselves  
than about their friend
who’s hurting herself
and hiding from them
she’s dropping hints
but no one picks up
they simply don’t care
she’s been hurting for so long
that she’s numb inside
she doesn’t feel pain anymore
she’s used to it and used to
being ignored and left out
the only time that she feels
anything is when her eyes
lets out floods of tears

*(s.m)

Being kissed under the mistletoe?
Such a cliché
...but God I really wish it would happen somehow
I don't even care anymore if that makes me pathetic.

First Base: Innocent words turn into gentle hands moving slowly yet rapidly from the stick shift to her thighs, wondering if leaning in would be moving too quickly or just the fact that maybe she wasn't ready to be moving at all.

Second Base: They're in his room now, both of which don't even know how they ended up there.
It's quiet though,
she liked quiet,
it reminded her of her childhood.
She observes the room like a rotation fan set to low,
slowly,
yet patently.
She notices all the pens & papers scattered all over his desk. His laptop was accidentally left open. It seems to be some sort of unfinished piece she finally manages to realize; she gets up from the squeaky bed & attacks it with grace, it reads:
"             *Feathers
      Her skin looked raw,
But the kind of raw
       You could still devour &
Not get sick from.
       I loved her, yet I didn't
Even know what
       Her favorite book was,
Or if she liked
        Sushi as much as I did.
I don't know if
        I will ever be the same
Again after laying
        My eyes on her.
I couldn't imagine
        Laying my hands
On her thighs or
        Kissing her while she
Was smiling.
         I wish I could tell
Her that..."
He slams the macbook shut at an attempt to stray as far away as possible from any further embarrassment.
She was frozen.
As was he.
He knew deep down inside of him he wanted her to read that, because he was never good at expressing his feelings face to face & maybe that's okay; but somewhere else trapped inside of him said that just because she's in your room alone with you does not mean in any way that she will ever remotely feel the same way towards you.
But a wise man once told him that if you're alive & well, & you're not doing everything that terrifies you, then what would be the point of living; & he now lives his life off of that minute & a half conversation with that homeless man outside of the starbucks that is right down the street from his house.
He went for it, he took flight of his life & his actions & went in for the thing he wanted most; *her.
The roughness in their innocent kisses would have been Rated R from the way you could taste the passion & it had the potential to make every bone in your body evaporate & leave you with nothing but your memories of what it used to be like to be able to taste.

Third Base: Clothes turned from magnets to grasshoppers in the matter of seconds. Everything was a fast paced blur. Skin was being ripped open, yet no blood was being ejected. No amount of candles could cover up the scent of sweat that was polluting the room. Songs are made from the sounds that were being created in this studio. The only thing keeping them apart was their own skin, & even that could barely do the job.

Fourth Base: They layed there, in awe; not thinking about the homework they hadn't finished, or that his parents probably heard the entire thing, or at the fact that the world had never moved so quickly in the same moments that time was in the midst of a game of freeze tag. No more worries about the future. Only love for what was going on in this moment. The way she curled up to his body reminded him that love can only come from the light. Her dark lipstick that was stamped all over his body reminded him that only beautiful things can come out of the dark.