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 Sep 2015
AJ
I don't think I've ever heard my father
Tell my mother that she was beautiful.
I'm sure of it.
Never.
There wasn't any positive comments on her appearance.
"Fix yourself up a bit!"
"When are you going to lose some weight?"
"I don't like your hair that way."
When I was sixteen I wrote her a note for mother's day
Telling her that she was genuinely beautiful.
And she cried.

I can't think of any positive comments on my appearance
That either of them spoke to me,
That didn't revolve around losing weight.
And then was only when I was throwing up on a daily basis.
Pocketing lunch money,
And measuring out one cup of cheerios every day
That I eventually stopped eating,
And starting storing in gallon bags hidden under my bed.
"Are you losing weight, good for you?"
It wasn't even that I looked good.
Or that I looked beautiful.
Or even that I looked healthy.
Just good that there was becoming less of me.
And to keep at it.
And I'm sorry sometime I try to fight you when you say you like my stomach.
I was always told it was unsightly and needed to be smaller.

My little sister listens when they call her fat, that her *** is big, that she needs to lose weight.
Constantly.
Not other kids.
My parents.
She asked me why she didn't have a boyfriend.
She's 15.
She thinks she is fat and doesn't like the way she looks.
I try to corner her every once in a while
And tell her not to listen to our parents.
Tell her that she is beautiful.
That her hair is soft, and her eye brows are flawless, and her tummy is gorgeous.

There has to be someone there to do that for her.
Someone to counter the words of authority.
And tell her that she is gorgeous.
So she never has to meet Ana or Mia.
Because she was average to below average weight
When she was in preschool,
and I in elementary school,
And were put on weight watchers by our mother in the summers.
Maybe because she was never told that she was beautiful.
And it poisoned her.
You're not supposed to hate your body so much that you want it completely changed.

You're supposed to love it so much, that you'll work to make it radiate the love and goodness that you put into it.
 Sep 2015
Chloe
I can literally feel the sadness in my bones.
My heart ******* aches and I'm losing control.
This **** has been killing me so it's time to let go.
Sit back and listen because this story is mine,
Its utter madness but now you'll know why I never trust guys.
I don't think God is real, never have, never will.
They say he loves all his children but don't you see how he breaks them?
I'm not just some atheist because I know this for sure.
Not once has God answered, he's just sent the devil to my door.
You would think the devil isn't human,
But he's as real as me and you.
He doesn't have horns but his favorite colors are black and blue.
Monsters don't hide under beds,
They walk into your room and restrain you under covers.
He pulls back the blanket and I'm staring into the eyes of my own brother.
God smiles, not cries,
As the devil he created shoves the wrong
Definition of love between my thighs.
I can't even call him a fallen angel
Because he never even made it to heaven.
Although he probably felt like it while he ***** me when I was 11.
Naked and scared, I prayed to god but he wasn't there.
I asked God why he dammed me to hell
I never got an answer but maybe I'm the angel that fell.
God said **** it, so I did too.
Years later, Impulsive desicions made me look like a fool.
These demons play hard and knock me to the floor.
But every night I crawled back fiending for more.
I started locking my door because
His empty eyes were burning through my skin.
All "God" has taught me is good hearts never win.
He creates bad men because he's obsessed with sin.
He sends lost souls to my door because
I'm so empty and desperate I let them in.
God did teach me one lesson back when I was 11.
"Close your eyes and think of a song,
you have no reason to feel so wronged,
Stop fighting the devil, accept the ****.
When someone actually wants you,  learn to appreciate."
The words stuck in my head for 7 years
Now I've got a new demon who whispers in my ear.
Drink a bottle, pop a pill, smoke ****, make yourself bleed.
"As long as you have drugs it's all you'll ever need"
Day after day, fighting to get clean
But the devils always watching and never lets go
I've never met a fallen angel so mean and so cold.
We fear his grasp but no ones ever prayed for his soul.
Why not pray for the one who needs it the most?
Because God gives up on all lost souls.
He did it to me, everybody knows.
He'll put you in battle, you'll die for sure.
There's gun shots in my head, so gimme some pills to fight this war.
Make the pain numb, learn to **** like a *****.
It seems like an endless battle but that's what the drugs are for.
So my advice to you is to never open that door
It's not worth it, I'm sure.
So when you hear a knock, go hide in your room.
God only sends men to break and bruise.
It's all about power and dope,
A ****** ******* nose.
They only hit you where the marks don't show.
In 97' God stopped caring about others,
So if you open that door
you might be staring into the eyes of your own brother.

And take it from me,
You'll never recover.
 Sep 2015
E Copeland
When you eat more than you said you would
Forgive yourself
When you accidentally text the boy who broke you
End the conversation
When you get too drunk and kiss someone
Don’t be ashamed
When the pain becomes too great and you slip up with the blade
clean the blood
bandage the wound
and then call your mom.

We are all human

We all mess up

And we can all be redeemed.
 Sep 2015
Riya
You know his favourite smell,
The colour of his eyes when he’s happy,
The curve of his lips with each emotion he feels.
You know him on the inside and out.

He only knows you in the dark.
He knows only the shadow of your bones
The dip of your waist,
The curve of your legs wrapped around his.
He’s mapped out his favourite places to caress,
He’s marked it as his.
His.
His.
Only. His.

You know him.
You know his breath on your neck,
You know his words in your ears,
You know his short breath on your stomach ,
And the feel of his hair.

But you don’t know his gentle touch…
Only his bruising fingers...
You know nothing of his sweet words,
Only the profanity's and curses
You know the purple on your skin,
But you've never felt his burning, lingering touch.

You've always been an escape ;
A Fantasy.
Darling,
you know you deserve to be a reality.
I hate the fact that you and I exist
But we don't
I hate feeling like a zebra
In this grey world
I hate feeling like Atlas
The weight of the world on my shoulders
My mild psychosis
Caused by my emotions
Driving everyone else crazy
Wishing I could end the world
With me in it
I hate seeing happiness
Something I feel I'm not worthy of
I hate feeling the wind
How it boasts of its freedom
I hate the mountains' pride
Higher than anything
I hate the sea
Describing its power
Its dignity
I hate how I'm arrogant
Due to lack of confidence
I hate how I'm wild
Due to lack of courage
I hate how I'm me
Due to how little i'm me.
 Aug 2015
raw with love
Let's steal my father's car
even though I don't have my license yet
even though you're not allowed to drive in this country.
Let's run away to a place
where your parents aren't fighting
where your mother is healthy
where my family isn't toxic
where I'm not burdened with crushing responsibilities.
Let's roam endlessly under the stars
with only the moon to keep us company;
let's escape to a place
where the cops won't pull us over
where only you and I will matter;
let's escape to a time
when you and I can happen.
Let's drive away to a place
where our laughter will resonate
for miles around;
where your face will bathe in starlight;
where we can be the only lovers left alive in the galaxy;
where your soft lips can touch mine again;
where your fingers can draw patterns all over my skin
with invisible paint;
where we can fight until we make out:
your lips
my hips
your hands
my hands;
let's run away to a place
where nothing else matters;
to a time
when we can forget about the world.
Let's escape and paint the world anew
in screaming color,
in bright lights,
in loud sounds;
let's leave all fears behind
because you've been hurt
and I've been hurt
but I've had enough of being wary,
I've had enough of guarding myself.

Let's steal my father's car
and run away together
to a time and place
when and where together exists.

I'm sick and tired of this pride,
Of building walls around us,
I don't believe in
amori vincit omnia
but maybe I can warm your heart up
and you can stitch my scars up
and maybe this will be enough.
 Aug 2015
Ella Catherine
More and more I’ve been thinking about how you ruined me. Skinny little girl arms and legs and tummies and chests, being touched for the first time, just a little-girl-playing-big with a boy-who-was-already-big. I peeled off layer after layer until I lay in front of you, exposed, fighting the urge to cover myself with my hands because it was you, because I trusted you, more than I’ve ever trusted another person. I would have let you lead me into a burning building.

I always heard that there’s nothing like your first love. I never quite understood until recently. There was nothing like my first love because I put all of myself into it, into you, pressing myself into your hands, trusting that you would take care of me.

I didn’t know, until I was in another boy’s bed years later, him kissing up and down my neck, me feeling the first awful tickle of panic in my chest. I didn’t know, until he told me that he loved me, til I felt every muscle in my body tense up like I had run into a ******* war zone.

I didn’t know. I’ve broken up with every single boy since you. I didn’t know. I haven’t been above to love any of them right because of you. Because you ruined me.

There’s nothing like your first love, they said. And they were right. It’s been four years and I’m still trying to pry my heart out of his filthy hands.
 Aug 2015
Monica Lara
People scare me.  They change their minds so quickly.  One moment it's "I love you" and "you make me happy" and the next it's "I'm not sure anymore" and "this isn't what I want".
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