A ****** is, a ****** was, a ****** here? a dime a dozen.
A ****** girl? just sixteen.
Choose to see life, a different sheen.
Needle never, needle then.
Needle why, in need of a friend.
Need some love, to warm my bones.
was frightened then, terribly alone.
A ****** was, a ****** why.
A ****** wished she could die.
A ****** lost it, skinny and sick.
all that's left, bones to pick.
A ****** disease, a ****** cure.
Don't know if you can recover for sure.
A good person now, a ****** then.
Hard to tell who might win.

I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm an alcoholic.
I'm 15 and I've been smoking cigarettes for
a year.
I'm 15 and I've been with more boys then I can count on one hand.
I'm 15 and my preexisting anxiety and depression are becoming too much for me.
I'm 15 and I don't know if I can do this anymore.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 6.
I want to be 6 when I swore I'd never touch a cigarette in my life.
I want to be 6 when I didn't even know what anxiety was.
I want to be 6 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 28.
I want to be 28 with a man who appreciates my flaws and loves me no matter what.
I want to be 28 drinking a glass of wine or two at dinner, but no more.
I want to be 28 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm scared.
I'm 15 and I'm scared because I'll never be 6 again, and I'm scared that I might not make it 28.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be.

Anorexia was the most attentive
Girlfriend anyone could ask for
And I fell hard for her
I fell for for 500 calories a day,
The sense of control it gave me
Compliments from girls I'd never talked to before
Doctors so pleased that I was finally "healthy"
That feeling,
Of stepping on the scale
And realizing that I took up less space
Than when I'd stepped on the day before
The feeling of water hitting an empty stomach
The hunger pangs
That secretly thrilled me
The thrill of the lies
The ones that became ever so easy
To slip off my tongue
The thrill of a secret love affair with death
I fell for an abuser
I fell...
Literally
Bruises lined my body
From bumping into walls
Because my body was so
Malnourished I couldn't
Walk down a hallway
Fell down a rabbit hole-
Fell down into a world I couldn't escape-
Thigh gaps, thinspiration, tips and tricks to
Hide this wonderland in your head
Walking headfirst into Anorexia was like walking
Into a haunted house
It's fun and exhilarating at first
It's a game, it's harmless
And then you realize that the doors
Are barred and it dawns on you
That ringing the doorbell of death
Was not the best idea
I am a study in skinny does not make you happy
The 5 pounds you wanted to lose
Turns to 10
Turns to 20
Turns to...
I am a study in
Every inch of your body being a warzone
Of standing in front of a mirror
Seeing nothing but a piece of meat
Taking up too much space
I am a study in calculation
I am a study in lying
I am a study in not dead, but not alive
I am a study in starvation
I am a study in falling out of love

maybe in 10 years we'll bump into each other

we'll catch up on all the time we let run away

and how desperately in love I was with you

and we can laugh about how we broke eachothers hearts.

Innocence is the days when
I thought that monsters
lived under the bed rather
than slept right beside me.

It was the times I feared
heights almost as much as
I now fear brooding stares.

Back when I thought
passionate love was the
only kind worth having
— that I now wish for a
lover who loves quietly.

Innocence was thinking
danger was an ill-advised
adventure, not a man.

It was admiring a tornado
heart and not realizing the
damage it would cause.

His name is buried into my skin quite literally
And figuratively
Arms in the air
Chest out, swan dive to the pavement
And in the three seconds before touch down you will hear his name peeling off my skin
He has always been the skeleton in my closet
The monster under my bed
He whose name shall not be said
Because he will always fine you
And then leave you
Three seconds before touch down

I've been trying to make father and dad rhyme
But dad has the essence of holding and never letting go
and father is some one who writes you letters after years of no speaking
Dad is some one who held you when you scraped you knee
And father is someone you only remember seeing once, and it was very cold that day
Dad is some one you talk to
and Father only wrote you one letter and you are 16
Dad is someone who you fight with, but you love him
and father is someone you will never know
Maybe its best that I can't rhyme sentiment and hopelessness
*Present and absent will never coincide with each other
Because my dad is not an antonym
And my father will never be a simile

We are human
We fight for freedom.
Gender equality,
Peace between the races
And for the end of all wars.

Yet, we have sold ourselves
To mental slavery.
Concocting an idea of beauty
That evolves
Each time we get close enough to grasp it.

We consume morsels
And curl our frail bodies over the toilet bowl
Stare into the mirror, and
Smile.
For between our thighs
we have carved, a gap.

We paint our faces
and hide the artwork that lies beneath.
We are enslaved by ourselves
And in turn we enslave society.

But, we are human,
We fight for freedom,
Gender equality,
Peace between the races
And the end of all wars.

But we neglect the wars going on inside us.

I saw this poem you wrote
and I got my hopes up
Sky high
and then I realized
It wasn't for me
But I keep it tucked in my mind
because maybe one day
it could be

remember middle school?
**** that ****.

I was so close,
Last night,
And you stopped me,
Why?

Do you hate me,
That ******* much,
I'm hurting,
Broken,
Disgusted with myself,
Sick in many ways,

I don't see why you,
Insist to keep me here,
Let me go,
I know it'll hurt,
But let me go,
Because one big thing is,

I don't want to be here without you,
I told you that,
Yet I am,
So let me go away,
To another place,
And just stay there,
For a good bit,
We will meet up someday.

i'll be 23 at a liquor store on my way to a party
the boy who i'm with will think my name is sorry
maybe the cuts will be scars by then
but that doesn't mean i'll be better
i still won't know how to be sober
i'll be in a stranger's bathroom
crying my eyes out,
they'll think it's just the shrooms
but it'll be you, it'll always
be you
i'll talk about the boy who didn't love me back
even with *** and alcohol in the equation.
maybe i'll be okay then,
but it'll never hurt less