There is a diagonal breeze blushing the sides of your uncovered, sleeveless arms, the air is soft and it's lightly warm, and it dances on your forearm and skin, just like the beams of sunlight that would frolic on your thighs under the water of a swimming pool

Efficiency doesn't make me happy, rather uncomfortable, I can't take my time and enjoy life because others want me to work at a speed ahead of what i'm comfortable with, for what my body wants, and instead, making me feel dumb or inferior. Everyone feels like that I assume.

How much can one lose at the attainment of another's hand? What faces do we see? Within the mirror, sincerity. Beyond, a blind mask. Promises of sacred words and worships, falling short is our resort. Speak free, speak wildly, but please obey once more. A gate, a window, a match drawn across the floor. For there is nothing here for you, perhaps there is nothing at all. Think before you act. If you must act, do so swiftly. In all things are innocent fragments. You are a face of this world. Your bed is still warm.

me/Elizabeth Fisher

En mi mente hay una nueva problema
¿Dónde está mi futuro?
Cuando es el tiempo correcto

Yo necesita libros, una capacidad por pintar, musica, y arte
Mi vida no es completo sin música y hombres y fiestas en la ciudad

Yo quiero entiendo más cosas en mi universidad
Yo quiero entender más hombres, más mujeres y amigos, posiblemente yo quiero reunirme por la primera vez con un profesor.

Yo quiero bebés, pero nada ahora, yo quiero ser presentado más personas y más cuerpos.

At what point
Do i cease to exist
Is it within my own control
If i take myself away
If i waste until my departure
It is better or worse
Does it matter in the end
Does it really matter at all

Is it true
Are they all lying and lemmings
Is it helpful
It must be
If they exist like that
and I like this

I’ve been let down
I’ve been pushed around
And i've learned to stand taller than before
And i've learned to **** in
To envelope everything inside me
Collect it
Bury and dispose

At what point do I feel a release
Of any kind


ef

The bruise on my knee formed this afternoon
As I slept by the fireplace
I woke and found it there, large and yellowing
Startled, I wondered not why it was there but when it would leave
Why have I attracted so many bruises?
My thighs, knees, shins covered in brown, yellow, green, purple spots, some little and deep, others expansive, without borders
Was the bruise of my flesh worth your pleasure?
Will I ever have a true answer to my questions?
Why don't you miss me like I miss you?

Past events which fractured minds have been instructed to follow through upon, the graces and derelicts, seasons past, adventures of then- tell me which person possesses what beauty. The sin or length of faith, the feelings of before or the moment after, what is lust if it is explained? What day do cheekbones rescind their style and collect age? Who is to find something new in a place forgotten? What dance do we use with our movements so quick? There are misplaced footsteps strewn from one destination to the next. Pray we might to find a sweet, mighty place to rest.

Elizabeth Fisher

safe
thats her
him
ohmygod
wow
dead in my steps
passing out at the thought
i can't stand
it

Why stay silent
Didn't you like it
Are you once again impartial to me?
Despondency does not look good on you
Your return to the dispassionate turns me away
Is that on purpose
A conclusion I draw, you don't miss me
Until I stand tall from my position in the
Desperate Kingdom of Love
And leave
Not to return

nothing is perfect
not on the first shot
but angel we tried and it didnt get better
where can i find you now
a hospital or an apartment broken down
a tool, a disguse i used to understand
now youre not in my head
youre not a friend
you asked if i missed you
said i was sweet
take a look at my body
you wont feel the heat
theres something inside i dont want anymore
its something deep and stuck to your core
i tried to brush it away but it has thorns
i told you ive loved you since before you were born
theres nothing inside me for you
not anymore

A boy told me recently that if I hadn't gone through all the **** I have, maybe he wouldn't have found me- the girl I am as intriguing. Maybe he wouldn't want to understand me like he does if I hadn't gone through so much ****. Maybe I wouldn't be who I am, was his message, more clearly.
Maybe I wouldn't be who I am...but maybe I would be happy. Maybe being neurotypical and healthy wouldn't make me who I am...but I cannot imagine it could be all that bad.

I have traumas surrounding eating disorders and death.
I have diagnosed anorexia nervosa.
Anxiety.
Depression.
I am a survivor.

Life sometimes haunts me, and I can't allow another person to haunt me too. What makes you think you can handle me?
Because I'm pretty tall, because I'm thinner than the average woman, because I'm tan, because I'm blonde, because I have round hips but a flat stomach, because I'm a ***** bisexual, because I work out, because I have long black eyelashes, because I have straight white teeth?

Or is it because you like how I treat people, you like that I will stand up for others, you like that I sing songs, you like that I love deeply and strongly, you like that I read, that I am smart, that I love to learn, that I am perpetually curious, because I have a passion for working with children and being a nanny, because I paint, because I love music and my family, because I want to travel, because I spend nights crying under moonlight writing, because I am bilingual, because I push myself, because I expect myself to create beautiful art and learn all that I possibly can, because I wear what I want and say what I believe?

What is it?

How can you claim to be falling for me when you can't be sure you know what you're falling for?

How can I be falling for you when I don't know if you have the capacity in your heart for me?

I think I could love you eventually.

Staying grateful for the written word,
It hides reality and my blemishes when I wish it to
Poetry does not judge
Fables and tall tales don't require truth or trust

Instead I can reveal as much I want
I can hide as much as I need to

Our relationship is changing, and I'm going to need to show you more of me
You say you want that, but I'm not so certain you do
I'm not so certain I have the bone to reveal what you think you've fallen in love with

Because if once you see the view, and you don't love it as I've hoped, there is nothing left. Nothing at all.

Synonyms hurt

I dream of giving up college and graduate school.
I dream of dropping out.
I dream of writing ferociously.
I dream of typing and scribbling and never ending my sentences
I dream of leaving copies of my speech hidden in different places
I dream of leaving something behind
I dream of living in the woods and letting my brain devour itself

Think of all I would think.

Unbeknownst to me
On top I was deep in another world
Right to the chase
My own bed as it is now
A premonition, I wished it was
Below, muscles and strong hardworking men
Driving him crazy!
A lingering dream which felt so close
I was so close!
Never to stop or surrender
Gave me everything I’ll try to remember
A dream so deep and him just as much
I wonder if I’ll ever find someone
The sexiest crush

silk
distraught
love won
love lost
too many interviews  
blew your first shot
there's a lot of blood for one night
a party on new years
what a game
maybe you'll leave or maybe you'll change
the sun hits my eyes
as i fly that kite
i try to watch out
reign it in
but it puts up a fight
not dissimilar to you
theres nothing new
here i am
stuck
while youre untrue

"However, for many of us it’s an ongoing source of disappointment and even an emotional roadblock in the relationship.

The questions nag at the back of our brains and maybe tug at the heart strings a little. Why won’t they listen to reason? Why don’t they value their own health? Don’t they want to live to be there for their grandchildren – for me? How can it not bother them to be giving up decades of their lives or at least the hope of some additional active and independent years? What am I supposed to do here? Will anything I do or say make any difference whatsoever?"

I wake up, look in the mirror, and I realize

I encapsulate a beauty, profound
Knowing my gentle grace is an enviable joy
A rebellion fabricated with beauty
I can bring destruction and I can bring new life with the same kiss
Men flock- women stare, compliment, judge, (the lucky ones experience my versatility)
Caring for...is my whole nature, yet limitless is my craving
Tall, athletically slim, curly blonde hair
I dance circles in your mind, as I spend nights in your arms
I will sing, and dance, and ****, while my old soul cries
And you will wonder why you ever fell in love
With a girl like me

"He, it was assumed, needed food if he was hungry. His hunger was helpful: a way to stay active and accomplish things.

But my hunger was the enemy – something to restrain, control, and master, lest, God forbid, I become less aesthetically pleasing."

stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea

The best time to write poetry is when it heals you, when you finish typing or writing, and you can inhale a new breath of air, of emotion, of feeling, and seeing. How lucky am I to know what a release such as that feels like. How my creative energy can leave me for so long, only to return one night at 2:00am, when I'm supposed to be deep in a deep, lilac slumber. How fortunate am I to know the power of words, and the power of actions. To be able to pair these things equally together and create blossoming life through paint, through writing, through my own mere existence.
I have been lost before, and I will be once again, but on some fragile nights, I will have a small epiphany, write it out on the page, and I will be all the better for it. I will know where I stand, who I am, what I believe, who I believe in, and where I am going.

We should let ourselves let go of things more often
Not only things that don't serve us, not just our worries
I need to practice letting emotions go
Letting people go
Letting grudges and pain go
Let it all escape my body
Escape my being
I need a freedom button
A release switch
An escape route
A quick fix
I'm out of long fixes
I've been in intensive therapy for over two years now
I'm sleepy
And I want my freedom back
I want to release and escape and I need to breathe
Breathe More