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Dec 2016 · 597
Eileen Xu Dec 2016
***** doesn't burn
Half as bad as third degrees
From you leaving me
Dec 2016 · 811
Eileen Xu Dec 2016
Cracked skin
Empty eyes
Chapped lips
Sullen sigh

But a ghost
In woman's shell
I'm no longer here
Can't you tell?
Dec 2016 · 1.6k
On being second best
Eileen Xu Dec 2016
Oh soft supple being,
No sinew, no bone.
Show me your rounded edges,
The places he calls home.

Make me feel unwanted,
Leave me broken down and stung.
For who would want a girl
With chapped lips and
Stuttering tongue?
Nov 2016 · 498
No Beauty
Eileen Xu Nov 2016
There is no beauty
In the remains
Of crumbling human. Soft
Tissue upon bruise upon
Broken bone bending
Bending to fit the roses
Bleeding from open wound
Bending to chocolate
Mould seeping from every crack
And crevice.

There is no beauty
In mirrored shards of life
Sharp enough to tear
Through tendon, tearing
Through towns and cities built on
Misery and crushing grief
There is no beauty

No beauty
In glass tears from glass eyes
Crying fallen stars and supernovae
No beauty
In disembodied screams
Lungless cries
Say goodbye to your life
This is real life
There is no beauty in
My life
There is no beauty
In me.
A poem in which I try to tackle the romanticisation of mental illness. It is not a glamorous life, I'll tell you that much.
Oct 2016 · 520
Eileen Xu Oct 2016
I feel
Dizzy bodied dizzy mind
Busy bodied to pass the time
Empty bodied empty mind.

I feel
A dulling ache beneath my veins
A seismic quake inside my brain
Collateral damage and no remains
Stay still -
And watch it wash like waves
Your cave, safe haven torn away

It plays -
In the places you called home
The heart that stutters between your bones
Silent, slowly, no-one knows.
The blows and bruises on your skin
It always finds some other way in
To make you feel
I feel.
Oct 2016 · 454
Eileen Xu Oct 2016
Head collides
With solid stone
No this is not

One two three
To slow the thoughts
Dancing out of reach

Drip drip drip
My ****** tears
I wish it were

Hold back the hurricane
Restrain the flow
Stem lava from
Spurting volcano

Float me a ring or
I'll sink in my raft
Oh how I wish I were
Sep 2016 · 389
Eileen Xu Sep 2016
I could write a poem
About self-love and recovery
The rediscovery of happiness
Pulling something lovely from the poverty
Of picked-apart people.

Piecing themselves together
Bit by bit
Needle and thread ready
Stitch by stitch
But they don't fit
Into the people they used to be
The lives they used to lead

Every segment fragmented
Broken down into constituent elements
Never to be reassembled
Quite the same

And no that does not make me insane
I'm just a little different is all
Take me off the shelves
Product recall
Just catch me as I fall
From the pedestal you placed me on

I am not wrong
Not broken
Just faulty sell me for forty
Percent less than retail price
I'm still alive

You see it doesn't make you any less
If you can't fit into the same old dress
The same old mould
You're solid gold
A little more, a little less,
You're worth millions.
This poem, as with most of my poems, is designed to be read aloud (spoken word/slam poetry) - you'll just have to imagine it being read in my dulcet tones, me of course being a stranger from the Internet. I began this poem in a very pessimistic place, in fact in a physical place that was a psychiatric unit (more of that to come), but it wasn't until a few months after my discharge that I returned to this poem and gave it the more optimistic ending it now bears.

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