Eleanor

Eleanor Apr 2014

**** my eyes hurt so bad
I don't know why I am not glad
I hated thefuck word glad
Why thefuck can't I eat you,
Man
Man, why
the ****
are you
a man
¿

Eleanor Apr 2014

Cuss. Are you cussing at me?

Jelly dry as ******* ice
Mice
Like evils mice they bite
Up my arms
Like charms
And Breyer ducking **** why the ugh can't you ******* get up
The thought of your thoughts is drought
Me so
The inside of my chest is better than the explanation of the Rest of the messages I sent
Why can't you get up
Sorry not sorry for the mice. Sorry not sorry for the ignorant would worry but too lazy
But too dumb
But too numb
But too ******* fed up
With your mothers hazy eyes and c cups
Why don't you ******* get up
Instead of ******* ******* up
I hate the ******* thought if that
You know ******* who I'm yelling at

Uh

Eleanor Dec 2013

Dearest

Naked, well almost; I laid there
I could feel the other girl's back cold against my skin-
-my imperfectly un-tanned skin
Instead, giving me freckles for just the heck of it
It felt as if the sun was gently kissing every small tan dot on my back, while being held under in an ice bath
But not because of my dearest by my side, no
Because of the dearest back home
Because of the doubts I set aside in the act of selfish desires
But you are truly my only one

Eleanor Dec 2013

Dearest

Naked, well almost; I laid there
I could feel the other girl's back cold against my skin-
-my imperfectly un-tanned skin
Instead, giving me freckles for just the heck of it
It felt as if the sun was gently kissing every small tan dot on my back, while being held under in an ice bath
But not because of my dearest by my side, no
Because of the dearest back home
Because of the doubts I set aside in the act of selfish desires
But you are truly my only one

Eleanor Dec 2013

Mary

2:02
The blinking blue line where my words will type is making me anxious
It's the morning now, but the sun's not up
And the taste of your memory seems more and more delicious
But it's morning now, and the sun's not up

And I miss you

Eleanor Dec 2013

Savor

it saddens me that the word 'suicide'
is beautiful to me in some way
like how beautiful
the flames are when they're burning your childhood memories
all at once
or how beautiful the girl who tries
to die
when she looks in the mirror
the kind of painful beauty that is seen from the observer
but not the owner
i would miss you, yes
i would cry, yes
i need you, yes
do not go
even with the beautiful, comes the agony
with the honor, comes the shame
with the blade, comes the scar
and with the suicide, comes the pain
i need you and i'll always need you
and though this poem is written for the heart of the girl who nearly died in a world
so cruel
so saddening
so indifferent
and significant
she wont nearly see how much she means to me

Eleanor Dec 2013

does it *really* matter

I would rather if you did not say much at all.
You do not want to risk anything or anyone.
You only want it all to yourself - everything, but that is not how it goes.
"You really are not that important", you tell yourself.
And those who say you are, do not matter because their opinion is 1 out of nearly 8 billion
And so are you.
So small - so insignificant.

But

If that was true -
Why are you here?
We're given a life, all to ourselves
It even came with a beautiful body.
So would not you think, there must be a reason?
A reason to live.
Just because you don't know the reason, doesn't mean there isn't one.
Wait a little longer dear, you'll be just fine.