I took a shower this morning but no matter how hard I scrub the bad won't come off of me.

I have two beautiful sisters.
Sometimes I have okay
self image, but
it can be hard.

Dezi has that blond hair, brown eyed all american look. She's got a **** and curves but is still petite.
She thinks she looks good most of the time but sometimes she is throws fits about clothes and I know what she's thinking.
Yesterday she made fun of how hairy my belly is. I need to shave I guess.

My sister Karen is gorgeous. Eating disorder makes her skinnier than she already is. But she still has curves. She throws up her food before I'm even done with mine and she's slowly killing herself.
She doesn't get that she's slowly killing me too.
And sometimes when I feel weird after i eat I wonder if I should just stop.

I'm the oldest so I try to act okay. They don't know that I just cut this morning or that them both smoking causes me to cry sometimes. They don't realize that I know I will never be enough. That I only allow myself to sleep with guys that I don't care about because its better than getting my heart broken by someone I love.

Last night my dad said he didn't love me.
Two weeks ago the boy I love lied to my face and chose someone else. Forgot about me.

I used to want to die. I still do but the ****** thing about that is I can't because I have to make sure my sisters are okay.

I need a friend who cares and a boy who loves me would be nice too. Romantically.

Cross my fingers.
Cross my heart.
I'll be good just please
help me.

Small cut on my right
hip. Small enough to be
okay, large enough to
remind me
that I will never be good
enough.

Somedays
it all gets too
much.
The glue won't hold my insides together.
The string that patched up my heart unravels.
Sometimes we just break.
And we say yes to those things we once left behind.
And I'm not saying it's okay.
I just
understand
that sometimes in order to go
forward
we have to take a step
back.

I am shaking and I just want somebody to love me.

And Sleeping with Sirens and Ron Pope and Parachute are playing in the background.
I am sitting. Hands around my knees, drowning in my ******* tears.

I want to be held.
Hold me.
Hold me.
I am falling.

And nobody cares.
Nobody cares.

I am talking to someone else and I trying to convince myself that I could fall in love be with him but I just keep seeing your face.

Our conversations were poetry and nonsense and broken promises and I miss you.
I am a ******* loser because I miss you.

I should hate you and believe me I do but tonight I miss you.

I once read that we spend all of our lives rewriting the first poem that we ever fall in love with.

I guess that when I was born the universe whispered your name in my ear.

Because that's what I am writing. Over and over again. Your name.

My love.

I will write about how I miss you until the universe brings us together again.

Till the wind whispers your name.

And then. I will spend the rest of my life rewriting you.

Over and over.

Every kiss. Every sound. Evey way you love.

Until our hearts are imprinted together.

Until the universe realizes that there is no you without me. That ours souls cannot be spereated.

And even then. On that day. I will write about it.