within my guts, perhaps there is no longer
slivers of withdrawal, of doubt,
but i can only wonder why i keep envisioning
my ****** gums,
stained like smashed cherries.
i know i love you, but you are now
the static pieces of glass in my palms
and i must be patient, but it is sinking
on the back of my tongue, and i am attempting
not to choke, not to swallow
so my insides are not shredded.
i would shred my skin and take my veins,
tie it together into bows, or boy scout knots,
if i knew i could curve your lips.
i would hang the veins inside your room,
connecting bits and pieces of my eyelashes,
if if if i knew it would lift you up from
tomorrow.
but i am not the girl who can tear herself in and out,
because my bits have gone already.

i know i love you, but i am so tired.
so tired. so tired.
i can't blame you, i can't bite your cheeks until
it sits like butterflies in your spine.

i do not know how to hold a shaking room.

Eventually you will have to come to terms with the fact
that maybe you just won't get better.
You will have to deal with people asking you "what's wrong?"
and "are you okay?" "you sure?" on a daily basis.
The most you can do is keep your head held high, keep
a smile pasted on that pretty face of yours and keep moving.
The worst thing you could possibly do is sit there and feel
sorry for yourself. At that rate you're right, you won't get better.
Somedays are worse than others. Someday you won't be able
to keep the tears from pouring from your pretty eyes.
Other days you will see the light in the things you do.
You'll walk a little lighter, and your smile will shine a little
brighter. Wait for these days. Keep faith that these better
days will come. Depression isn't about wallowing in your
self pity. It's a condition when a strong person just can't
think strong thoughts. Depression is when no matter how hard
you try, you just can't smile. It isn't something to be ashamed
of. It isn't something you should hide from the world.
Other people can help you.. You can't always make yourself
better. Accept advice, even if you don't want to listen,
even if you aren't going to follow it.

Day 1: I want to tear my skin off. My heart is beating so fast i can barley breathe. I feel so filthy.
Day 2: I can't believe this. I don't want to be here. Why did this happen? Why did I let this happen?
Day 5: I guess I drank too much and my friends were to drunk to stop me.
Day 10: I can't face my friends, I can't live my life.
Week 3: No one knows. He hasn't said a word.
Week 6: It happened again, I was sleeping and he did it again. Why did I stay the night? Why didn't I go straight home?
Week 7: He left and kissed me goodbye. I don't know how to feel.
Week 10: My life's out of control, I can't believe whats happening.
Month 5: My boyfriend knows. But not all details. Just thinking about it, makes me want to take a shower.
Month 8: I finally came clean to my friends. They're appalled. They hate him now. I still feel filthy. I can't get his smell off my body still.
Month 11: The anniversary is soon. What am I going to do?
Year 1: I haven't spoken to him in months. I haven't thought about it in days. I still feel as if hes on top of me, why can't I wash him away?

Its an uphill battle with myself and others. Some days I can't get out of bed or even feel like breathing.
But I try not to let him get to me. Because if he sees my weakness from what hes done,
He's won.

You love my eyes, my smile, my hair—
But what of the dryness of my hands,
The birthmark on my neck?

Am I still beautiful at 2 a.m:
Makeup smudged, hair undone,
Eyes half-closed?

What of the wetness beneath my eyes,
My swollen lips and cracked apology?
Do you still think I'm pretty
When I'm crying?
When I've got bruises on my knees,
Blisters on my ankles?

It's morning-time, mid-spring,
The time of freckles, bee stings,
And sweaty cheeks.
If you want me, you'll take it all—
I will not shatter myself
So you can love one piece.

And we stood there in silence.
She didn't cry
Nor did her voice shake.
She just looked at me straight in the eye
And said,
"I thought I was at least worth fighting for."
And when she spoke those words
In the calmest way possible
I swear I could almost hear her heart break.

And then you realize
that no amount
of milky coffee and doughnuts
can cut the bitterness of loss,
but you have to learn
to eat breakfast alone
eventually.