I think I'm allergic to eating..

       I wake up the next day to soft blue blotches on my thighs
       And angry red lines on my hip.

208

The Rose did caper on her cheek—
Her Bodice rose and fell—
Her pretty speech—like drunken men—
Did stagger pitiful—

Her fingers fumbled at her work—
Her needle would not go—
What ailed so smart a little Maid—
It puzzled me to know—

Till opposite—I spied a cheek
That bore another Rose—
Just opposite—Another speech
That like the Drunkard goes—

A Vest that like her Bodice, danced—
To the immortal tune—
Till those two troubled—little Clocks
Ticked softly into one.

"The scariest thoughts
are ones that would completely free us
if they became a reality.
It's the unknown,
and leaving the comfort of what is known,
that makes fearing the leap of faith a normality."

I've never liked the word Quiet
The word pulsates through my veins
Clawing at my neck
Flashes in my brain
Etched on my forehead
"You're so quiet."

I sit in the room full of people
Yet I am alone.
They're laughter bubbling up and overfilling the room
Like the cauldron they stir
Full of questions like,
"You don't talk much do you?"
And all I can do is shake my head shamefully.

I want to scream out loud
"Can you hear me now?" I cry out.
I am in this empty cave of oblivion
And all I hear are the taunting echoes
"You're so quiet."
"Speak up."
And all I can do is shake my head shamefully.

She skinned her knees crawling through her emotions
She opened her veins on paper and let the thick blood come trickling out
Her heart is made of glass and if you touch it light enough it will break into two, releasing a new beat
She lost her sight in love
She carved words on her chest as if without them she couldn't rest
She scratched words on her throat and clawed them on her tongue like they were her new oxygen supply.

She is a poem who I'm glad lived.