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i never understood why people always say roses are red
to me, they come in different shades of cream
fleeting buttery softness
that allows dewdrops to roll right off their tongues
just a quick one from my notes app :)

hi!! so sorry i haven't posted on here in forever, i haven't really been in a poetry mood recently for some reason...i have lots of updates

i got into a performing arts high school that i've been wanting to go to for forever!! so ******* excited for that!!

i have a lot of caffeine coursing through my veins right now (i literally had four shots of espresso today) and it's six am and i have just pulled my first all nighter in a really long time. during my all nighter i: sewed a dress from scratch (sort of, i traced one of mine), sketched a drawing, did some homework, and listened to five or six full albums during all of that. so yep, definitely too much coffee.

um i've been extra into movies recently and i've watched SO MANY in the past month

i disastrously failing at turning any of my work in for school but somehow i still have okay grades and my teachers still like me so i don't know what's up with that

what else...oh! i got to perform live for that first time in ******* forever, it was so fun!! the place i take my piano and voice lessons at puts on this show every year that i've always wanted to perform at and i finally got to so that was super fun!!

um yeah i don't know what else. sorry that was a lot. anyway, i hope you all are doing good and i'll try to work on writing poetry again i guess <3
Mar 22 · 60
erica lynn Mar 22
call out to me
she calls out to me

you hang your clothes out to dry
i guess it’s something to do if you’re bored
even though no one does that anymore

peeling oranges on the front porch
orange slice smiles and sugar on your skin
even though you’d rather stay in

call out to me
she calls out to me

hanging me out to dry
on the laundry line
even though i thought you’d never want to

lemon curd melting on the front porch
you could never handle citrus
too sweet for you
even though you always wanted to

i’m calling out to you

can you hear me
over the washing machine

i will never dry
you will never satisfy
i will never dry
you will never satisfy
happy world poetry day <3

here's a song i wrote the other day!!
erica lynn Mar 18
sad is supposed to be cold
and taste like the color blue
but sad feels like a blanket
draped over me
and it doesn’t taste like anything at all

and i wish i knew how to let the leaves fall
without wanting to fall with them

and sad feels like maple
syrupy and sweet
and looser when put on extreme amounts of heat
but sad doesn’t taste like maple
because sad tastes like nothing at all

and i don’t know why i want it to stay
and i don’t know why it never goes away
this is the backing song i wrote to go with an animation i've been working on for a school project!! i finally finished and turned it in today, and hopefully i get a good grade on it because it consumed my life for a month and i probably spent around sixty hours working on it.

the animation title is "sad tastes like nothing at all"
and the song title is "maple"

here’s a link to the animation (hopefully it works!!):
Mar 13 · 61
artichoke heart
erica lynn Mar 13
sometimes i feel like that shade of grey that’s almost green
almost close enough to taste the leaves bursting in my mouth
soil coating my tongue and escaping down my esophagus
planting seeds as it grows
a garden growing within me
but i cannot taste the leaves
and i cannot feel your fingers against my cheek
so i’ll paint my walls that shade of grey that’s almost green
wallow in the salt filled water slowly filtering through the cracks
know that inside me is not green,
it’s black
and i can never reach a paintbrush inside of me
and lather green onto my bones
and feel the garden growing within my soul.
little one from yesterday <3
erica lynn Mar 12
if you bought me a star
i don't think i'd ever look up at the sky
if i can't look at myself in the mirror
how can i be an object for others
to admire
this has been a collection of weird **** from my notes app :)
erica lynn Mar 12
my skin has a tendency to bleed outside the outlines
my gums are bleeding
and my teeth are falling out

i wonder if my past life is doing fine
decaying under the soil
i wonder if i should dig it out
erica lynn Mar 12
hopefully you believe in angels
that way we can talk in a week or two

hopefully you believe in angels
that way we'll never meet again
erica lynn Mar 12
is your heart so big you had to rent a storage locker for it
is that why you're so cold
erica lynn Mar 12
stockholm syndrome
would be better
than nothing

if you are my captor
i don't want to leave

if you want me here
i will gladly sit by your feet

and lick your soul clean
Mar 9 · 96
the three r's
erica lynn Mar 9
(tw: ed)

1. giving in (common usage)
2. the fear that overtakes my body when i try clothes on and they don’t fit
the voice in my head that says fighting isn’t worth it
the hands around my neck squeezing my windpipe shut
when even the quiet rustle of the leaves is too much

1. the permanent voice in my head telling me i’ll never be thin enough
2. my footsteps in the kitchen
the words leaving my mouth
talking myself down from the edge of a cliff
filling up my water jar and quenching my parched lips

1. losing myself
2. as slow as the wind on a lazy summer day
gradually blowing the leaves out of my hair
the ding of the toaster, the scrape of the jam knife
the voice in my head telling me it’ll be alright
i had a relapse scare the other day, but i handled it better than than usual and i'm feeling much better now!!

i wrote this about it yesterday :)
Mar 5 · 46
paddington station
erica lynn Mar 5
i hope i’ll see you at paddington station
with a smile on your face
and a big bunch of red carnations
holy **** i'm so excited!! the music place that i take my piano and voice lessons at holds an event every year and i've wanted to sing at it for so long and i finally got invited this year!!

now the painstaking process of picking which song to sing begins...i'm very indecisive
erica lynn Mar 1
i wish i could reach my hand up to the sun
pull down a handful of scorching orange fire
force it down your throat
and let it light your heart aflame.
erica lynn Mar 1
i am nothing more than a pebble crushed under your foot
left to mingle with the sand
and get beaten by the shore

i am nothing more than a crunchy leaf
that you step on hoping to hear the sweet
sound of the crackle
but it’s not there
so you cackle
and point
and sneer
and walk away

i am nothing more than the reflection of the river in your eyes
a shadow of the real thing

i am nothing more
i am nothing more
i am nothing
erica lynn Mar 1
rolling the dice until my head rolls off my neck

and i’ll sit here
pretending i don’t notice the differences
between you and me

and i’ll sit here
pretending i have a grip on reality

and it isn’t slowly
erica lynn Feb 25
i think forever would be a lot less intimidating if you were a cigarette. only making my life a living hell for a scene or two, then getting stubbed out with my bare toes. your burn mark will be there forever, though. hidden behind layers of painted canvas, but still causing me to wince every time i get up. a reminder that before she was mine, i was yours. and before i was yours, i was nothing.
Feb 24 · 29
erica lynn Feb 24
rylee liked to watch films in her basement
she told me i could come over

rylee liked to tell me lots of things
except what to do when you fall over

when you fall head over heels in love
with your childhood best friend

no, rylee didn’t tell me what to do
rylee didn’t tell me what to do

told you i could love someone if i got the chance
if only they loved me back
told you i could love someone if i got the chance
if only they would love me back

rylee liked to watch the leaves fall
she always tucked them in at night

rylee always tucked me in at night
her lavender hair calmed me down

and rylee didn’t know
that my heart did cartwheels
in her basement on saturday

and rylee doesn’t know
that everytime it snows
i think of her and her red nose

told you i could love someone if i got the chance
if only they loved me back
told you i could love someone if i got the chance
if only they would love me back

rylee liked to watch me all the time
her eyes never left my back

rylee liked to tell me about all the boys
how she loved it when they laughed

i love it when you laugh
i’d love it if you’d love me back

told you i could love someone if i got the chance
if only they loved me back
told you i could love someone if i got the chance
if only they would love me back

if only they would love me back
if only they would love me back
if only you would love me back
if only you would love me back

rylee liked to tell me lots of things
except what to do when you fall over

when you fall head over heels in love
with your childhood best friend

no, rylee didn’t tell me what to do
rylee didn’t tell me what to do

tell me something about you
tell me something good
for once

tell me something about you
tell me something good
for once
another song!! sorry that's all i've been writing lately, hopefully i'll get some more poetry inspiration soon!!

i've been listen to a lot of arlo parks recently, (her new album collapsed in sunbeams is so good!!) so this was inspired by her writing style.
Feb 22 · 46
do not enter
erica lynn Feb 22
do not enter is a common phrase
it warns people to stay away
but it beckons me closer, calls my name
for some reason poisonous gas entering my lungs
is alluring
tasting something addictive
swallowing over and over again
is addictive in itself
in proving i can flail my arms in the water and not drown
step straight onto quicksand
ignoring the looming do not enter signs
and stay in control
stay with my unscratched esophagus
that had not been weathered with sand and dirt
that has not been swallowed
i am in control
i am not addicted
merely fascinated with my disastrous attempts to not stay whole.
Feb 22 · 33
washing machine
erica lynn Feb 22
playing hide and seek in the washing machine
said you’d **** me if you ever found me in there
if it didn’t **** me first

you hate when i do as you say
but when i defy you it’s worse

cutting my hair over the bathroom sink
said you liked it long
so now it’s above shoulder length
where it doesn’t belong

you hate me whenever i say something wrong
so you hate me all the time

you said my eyes looked like chocolate and then
ate them so i would be blind

playing hide and seek in my mind
you jump out where i expect you the least
and pull out my vocal chords
and fashion a leash

walking around the cul de sac
and my knees are getting red
you tell me my hair is too short
then stick it in the mud with the rest of my head

you hate me when i do the laundry
but i’m doing what you said
“washing the dirt out of my mouth”
by the time you find me i’ll be dead

and you can run around the cul de sac
screaming my daughter is dead
but the neighbors hate you
watch it go right through their heads

you hate that i set the dryer to delicate
didn’t want to burn my new hair
go ahead and dry me in there
i’m not alive so i don’t care
a song i wrote a little while ago :)
erica lynn Feb 20
you’ve got one head on me
but in my arms you feel small

you’ve got the body of a baby in my arms
but in the world you’re so ******* tall

i’ve got your wasted potential
balled up in my hands

you’ve got three crashed cars
and no payment plans

i grew up in a small town
with cars churning out gas
dismissed the faces of everyone i passed

but you got my attention
just by sitting there,
looking brass

you grew up in a small town
with swingsets creaking as they flew fast

but you were never satisfied
with skin made of bulletproof glass

my mind is made up
if uncertain
my mind is made up
if uncertain

orange juice is flowing through my
black and blue veins
you have a chemical imbalance
flowing through your brain

and my mind is made up
i’ll fly through the pouring rain
to visit you in prison
hear you say my name

and you don’t know what to do
don’t know what to do
with my crazy

and you don’t know what to do
with my scissors at your service

you chop my hair off
i grow it back on purpose

forgetting you will be
the last thing i do
before my eyes become shattered glass
and my undertones turn blue

and you don’t know what to do
don’t know what to say
when all your pins are knocked down

and you don’t know what to do
with me filling up the sound

waves are crashing
but you still turn around

your time is passing
but i still hear your silence in every sound

my mind is made up
if uncertain
my mind is made up
if uncertain

your chemical imbalance is perfect
your blood stains will always be worth it

my mind is made up
you’re perfect
my mind is made up
you’re worth it
just realized i never posted the final song inspired by the end of the ******* world!! this is it folks :)
Feb 17 · 62
erica lynn Feb 17
stand on my back
it’s okay if your toenails dig in

it’s okay if they cut
if they bruise
i know how to take care of my own wounds

by now
i know how to take you
tuck you in like a little kid

kiss your forehead like nothing’s wrong
because nothing isn’t

the right word to describe you
and how you consume

and how you drink water until they come and bury you

and how i did the same even though i knew it killed you

we consume
and consume
and resume

and you climb on my back
and you reach for the tree branch

chopping up artichoke hearts
until it’s my turn
for my heart to get chopped

into bite sized pieces for you to consume
and consume

until i am a pile
of bones on the ground
when a dog comes over
and says to himself

“this looks quite tasty”
and chews and chews
and consumes

we resume
pretending like nothing’s wrong
cause nothing’s not the right word to describe

how i feel about you
it’s all consuming

it consumes
and consumes
and takes over me

until i'm crouched down on the ground
barely breathing

because your beauty likes the steal my lungs away

deflate them and use them
as grotesque flowers in your display

and i’m consumed
and consumed
utterly bemused

at how your laugh sounds like sunshine
on a rainy afternoon

and how you’ve got me thinking
i’m no good for you

when your toenails are in my back
and you consume
and consume

when i tell you i love you
we’ll consume
and resume

you’re my muse
you’re my muse
and you consume
and consume
song i wrote the other day :)
erica lynn Feb 14
sometimes i feel like the empty walls in the garage
void of insulation,
and delicately covered with weak cardboard
and if anyone removed it they would see me
my fingernails cutting into my palms
and the pink tendrils of my brain
slowly flowing out of my ears
piling up around me
and cementing me to the ground.
Feb 11 · 55
alcoholics anonymous
erica lynn Feb 11
(tw: mentions of suicide, alcoholism, self harm, and eating disorders)

hello, my name is erica
and i’m an alcoholic
well, not exactly
i had half a bottle of kombucha when i was twelve
hello, my name is erica
and i had an eating disorder
and i talk about it too much
if i’m numb to it maybe it can’t hurt me anymore
i’ve learned recently that eating disorders and alcoholism are sort of the same
in the way that they never go away
in the way that if i started drinking excessively today
it would be the same as slitting my wrists over the sink
in the way that starving myself
was a substitute for dying
hello, my name is erica
and i had an eating disorder
well, not exactly
i guess i have an eating disorder
i just said they never go away
in the same way i could be sober for ten years
and still show up at the same ******* meeting and say:
“hello, my name is erica
and i’m an alcoholic.”
even though the bitterness of coffee
is the only thing my tongue has tasted
and staying up too late
is my own form of getting wasted
but they say staying up late is self harm too
so i guess i’ll never be clean to you
i guess i’ll be ***** forever
and tainted
so ******* tainted
well, not exactly
these ghosts are only visible to me
their bloodshot eyes are all i see
and i can hear them whisper to me:
“come back, come back
things were easier this way
come back, come back
no one ******* wants you to stay.”
sorry i only write about my eating disorder but i don't know what else i have
erica lynn Feb 10
your car was built in 1989
and right now i’m thinking that it should’ve died
as your hand moves up my thigh
and you ask why i’m shaking so hard

you think my arms are too small to wrap around your waist properly
and i think your head is too big for your body

i could push it off
replace it with mine
make it the right size
make you have my eyes

my body likes to wander around
headless and hoping for food
as i try to track it down
but your body’s too big to move

you think my arms are too small to wrap around your waist properly
and i think your head is too big for your body

my mom has the worse sense of judgement out of anyone i know
when i brought you home she told me
“this one’s a keeper
he’ll win the blue ribbon at the show”

that’s when i should’ve known

but i’m in your car that’s too old
and we’re all alone
and i figured out it’s alive
cause you cut off your nose

and bleed into the seats
turned on the heat
now salt’s in the wound
and your kisses are dying to eat
song i wrote today, might be finished, might not be finished, who the **** knows

wrote this based on a line i've had in my notes app for a little while: "head too big for your body"

also i've been listening to a lot of lucy dacus recently so i tried to write something in her style-ish
Feb 7 · 103
erica lynn Feb 7
(tw: ed, mentions of suicidal thoughts)

my mom hates cursing
she would turn off the music i played in the car
so i would sit in the back and write
****, ****, ****
over and over
my mom received the silent treatment
for four months a few years ago
and she deserved it
because she said i couldn’t wear what i want
now i can
but i don’t because i hate my skin
my mom used to buy a special kind of lotion to fix it
the little red dots all over
it never worked
my mom took me shopping for bathing suits
a few years ago
and she told me in the fluorescent lights of the walmart dressing room
that it’s good that i liked them
because she had tried some on the other day and
“felt like i weighed two hundred pounds”
i went to a sleepover at my friends house
we snuck out and bought a sourdough bowle
we ate it all
when everyone was sleeping i crept into the bathroom
and stepped onto the scale
and watched the numbers creep up
and i hated myself
my mom isn’t awful
she says that she loves me
i always laugh as she says this and scream in my head
“you don’t ******* know me!”
because she doesn’t
because you can’t love someone that you don’t know
my mom isn’t awful
but sometimes i hate her
when i remember how her words were stabbed into my brain
and forced down my throat instead of food
we’re raised in a certain kind of way
where our worship is almost christian like
and we’re expected to give blind faith
and they give us a bible of our parents words
and they tell us to hold them too close
and our parents are our deities
so they can do nothing wrong
and they never ******* apoligize
we always have to
“sorry, mom
sorry that i shut down whenever you mention workouts
sorry i couldn’t breathe after i ate a brownie the other day
it’s not like you’re the one who gave me an eating disorder
sorry, i just thought that parents are supposed to feed you, not starve you
sorry i want to **** myself on the bad days
sorry it’ll be me being selfish and not you failing as a parent
sorry i’m not a perfect ******* princess
sorry i know a ******* word
sorry i want to scream all the time
sorry i can’t love you even though you’ve given me no reason to.”
Feb 5 · 138
erica lynn Feb 5
somebody in the kitchen
listening to something i can’t listen

staring through windows like i do

if i could wander
on the bridge of your eyelids
and if you’d be kinder
i could fall right in
and it could be sonder
seeing the world as you do

somebody crossing the street
listening to something i can’t listen

staring through windows like i do

if i could wander
onto cracked pavement
and if you’d be kinder
i could listen right to it
and it could be sonder
hearing the world as you do

not staring through windows like i’m used to

and i could grow older
without the fear of losing bones
and i could get taller
without the fear of losing toes

and it could be sonder
and i could stop wander-ing

through crowds of people
with my ears wide open
and i could stop becoming smaller
with every passing second
trying to fit right into your irises
and pick up flowers from your garden

and it could be sonder
and i could stop wander-ing

and it could be sonder
and i could stop wonder-ing
song i wrote last night about my awful, genuine, fear of missing out. it's ******* terrifying how much is in the world and how we'll never have time to experience it all.

sonder: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. i wish i could just appreciate the fact that those stories exist and not want to tear through every single one of them.

trying to switch up my writing style and try new things so this one was an attempt to write in a mitski-esque style :)
Feb 4 · 50
erica lynn Feb 4
(tw: ed)

it never goes away
because it’s been two years
and i was just pacing around the kitchen island
and had to stop
because i remembered i used to do that
when i wanted my bones to poke out of my skin
and cut anyone who came close enough
to realize
and force food down my throat
i had to stop pacing
and stood there, barefoot
my mom oblivious doing the laundry a few feet away
and remember how to breathe
and every step after felt like an itch up my sleeve
and i had to open up a brownie
and hear the crinkle of plastic
to remember i’m not starving anymore
and pacing isn’t doing thousands of sit ups on the floor
it’s ******* terrifying
how it never goes away
i hate that everything is tainted
erica lynn Feb 2
you hate me whenever i say something wrong
so you hate me all the time

you said my eyes looked like chocolate and then
ate them so i would be blind
songwriting haha
erica lynn Feb 1
january 25th, 2021

my bones are made of metaphors. i cannot escape their grip on me, cannot stop seeing them in everything i do. my emotions are compared to a mouse painting a naked women in renaissance era italy, my thoughts conveyed through songs played in the car.

february 1st, 2021

why can't i convey it plainly? why must metaphors grow on my vocal cords like vines of ivy, clinging to my teeth of ivory pillars? is it what comes with a decade of reading poetry, where people cross deserts and drink water falling out of the sky to profess their love?
a random journal entry about metaphors that i forgot about and finished today :)
Feb 1 · 47
erica lynn Feb 1
(tw: sh)

yesterday it felt like my head was too big for my body
like someone's spoken word
could float through the air
and push it off my neck
yesterday i cut off all my hair
i needed to do something or i was going to cut
cut through the veins on my wrist
and watch in slow motion as
the blood turns from blue to red
so instead
i cut
cut all my hair off
and now it's in a pile in the bathroom sink
today my head feels deflated
and i keep running my hands
through my above shoulder length hair
and wonder how it got there
and wonder why my palm is bleeding
a cut from my too long fingernails is heeding
my ****** up request
a little too late
because my head is now a normal size
and words floating through the air don't feel like daggers
and my head isn't rolling on the floor
but sometimes i wish i closed the bathroom door.
1/31/21 (written on 2/1/21)

a word ***** from "quiet writing" time during ELA today

yeah yesterday was **** but my hair turned out cute at least
Jan 30 · 65
erica lynn Jan 30
how you shove your hand down my ear
controlling my thoughts with your marionette strings
how you shove your fingers down my throat
and reach down until the bile stings
oh, how you cut me open with your glare!
how you harvest slabs of skin from my body
and lose them deep in my closet
how your words keep out the world, how they stop it!
oh, how you shove the painkillers down my throat
you love when i swallow them dry
oh, how your demand is what i supply!
your demand is so simple, so easy to comply
it is clear to me, i must never find the key to my closet
it is clear to me, your words are what stop it
and oh, how your gaze is so attentive!
but why must your love be so conditional?
why must it be the one i want the most?
why must your words be the most traditional?
and i, the most unloveable for you
i, the one who would break my heart in two?
oh, how your marionette strings tug on the bags under my eyes!
oh, how they let me see!
oh, how much i have been missing!
and i, the one who wants to cut you free
i, the one you can’t seem to leave be
oh, you are my love,
but you are no good for me
oh, how i wish i had the key to my closet
oh, how i wish i could find it!
how i wish i could perform surgery
how i wish i could stitch what was lost back onto my body
you temptress, you see
your collar bones can no longer impale my heart in your deathly hug
as much as i wish i could sink into your arms
and hear you profess your love
oh, how i wish i could add you to the groceries
how i wish i could find you in the sugar free
but you are lost, and it is for the better
but i worry you will starve without my dreams
you always shoveled them into your mouth so delicately.
the finished piece for the writing contest, i just submitted it! wish me luck i guess :)
Jan 30 · 72
erica lynn Jan 30
but i worry you will starve without my dreams
you always shoveled them into your mouth so delicately.
i've been trying to write something for a writing contest for TWO MONTHS and the deadline is in two days and nothing has worked so far...until now? i guess??

just wrote the whole thing: gonna do some edits and hopefully submit it by tomorrow!!
erica lynn Jan 26
i am making pasta sauce
i can hear it bubbling in the kitchen
i added oregano
and thyme
and time
did you know those things rhyme?
i used to pronounce thyme
like “theme”
like “bee”
you don’t add sugar to honey
it just comes naturally
i added sugar to my pasta sauce
cause my lungs can’t take the acidity
i already have a hard enough time trying to breathe
without tomato juice running down my esophagus
and filling my lungs up
imagine if they had to say that in my obituary
“she died drowning on the inside, but not from the fluidity
from tomato juice
from the acidity
it burned holes in her skin
she dropped dead right there
in the kitchen
she was listening
to the bubbles popping
while her heart was stopping.”
sorry the title is a ******* pun i couldn’t stop myself sorry sorry

anyway i don’t know what the **** this is i’ve officially gone crazy
Jan 25 · 98
personality factory
erica lynn Jan 25
i would like to crawl into the black hole of someone’s irises
and watch myself breathe
i would like to crawl into someone’s brain
and sort through the file cabinets full of me
i would like to feel like a real, living, breathing
human being
rather than a personality factory
with brains rolling across production belts
and screens that say:
“model 114”
workers that shout:
“watch out! we made this one a little moody.”
finalizing different versions of me
and swapping them out
cutting open my head
and plopping a new one in
people say that you’ll be done
finalizing eventually
and you’ll know that you’re funny, smart, and rude
or ****** up, apologetic, don’t know what to say to you
whatever **** they ask you at job interviews
but i think my personality factory will continue
finalizing forever
i don’t feel real
all these saws cutting into me
i thought my brain wasn’t public property
but all the bad models are in an art museum
for everyone to see
i don’t feel real
i don’t feel like me
i wish i could crawl into your irises
i wish i could see
a living, breathing
human being
instead of my ******* personality factory.
i'll probably go back and revise this at some point, because i love this idea and i don't think i executed it well enough/exactly how i wanted to
Jan 25 · 483
frog cake
erica lynn Jan 25
and you don’t know what to do
with my scissors at your service

you chop my hair off
i grow it back on purpose
my birthday was today and i made myself a frog cake

anyway this is another part of the song i'm writing inspired by the end of the ******* world, i actually really like how it's turning out so far :)
erica lynn Jan 23
(tw: ed)

i think everyone has a place they can’t leave
one they’re trapped in
where their thoughts always reside
and their feelings always collide
for me it’s the shower
in the guest bedroom
at my dads house
i went in there last august
and i tried to write but nothing came out
i sat on the floor and watched the graphite bleed into my hands
and i flipped through pages of my journal trying to understand
why starving didn’t work
starving was supposed to work
it was supposed to erase all my hurt
and it did
for a little bit
because when you’re starving you can’t feel anything
and i think feeling nothing is my favorite thing to feel
being numb
being numb feels like a treat
that is sticky and sweet
and glues the roof of your mouth
to your bottom teeth
so i sat in the shower
and tried to remember why i stopped starving
starving was tiring
i remember that
i don’t remember much else though
my brain has blocked out that year
that’s probably a good thing
i remember starving was tiring
i remember my eyes always wanted to shut
and my brain always wanted to turn off
i remember i got mean
really mean
they say starving makes you angry
i wasn’t very angry
i was tired
and people are too loud
and too bright
and middle school cafeterias have too many people
and too much food
and too much everything
dealing with people was tiring
i’m still bad at it
i think when i was starving i was dying too
i just didn’t realize cause i was too busy starving
but now i’m not too busy
and thoughts like to crawl in my ears
and give me ideas
i want to go sit in the shower and try to remember why i stopped starving
because these thoughts are irrational
at least that’s what people say
but to me they seem rational
in the worst kind of way
i know it’s bad
i know it’s bad that my only sense of peace
is the thought that if it gets too much
i can always leave
my mom probably thinks i should’ve stayed in therapy
but i like to leave
i don’t like anyone to know me
i like to sit in dust collecting showers
and try to remember why i stopped starving.
wrote this when i was ~in my feels~ a few days ago

not really poetic, just wanted to get it out of my system :)
Jan 21 · 45
honey pt.2
erica lynn Jan 21
if i could inhale her honey blonde hair
and sink deep into her golden eyes
and taste her strawberry tinted lips
and have her eyes glaze me over
in her presence,
i am anything but sober
i am high on sugary sweetness
and her summery joyousness
cures my unhopeful callousness
if i could have her wash over me
sugar replacing salt in the sea
yellow replacing the blue in me
my poems about girls that don't exist always seem to do the best, so we'll see :)
Jan 21 · 44
erica lynn Jan 21
my mind is full of buzzing bees
they sneeze
glistening trails of honey
dripping into every vein in my brain
turning everything fuzzy
i always use the vein/brain rhyme, but do brains even have veins in them? i have no idea and i'm too lazy to look it up
Jan 20 · 71
erica lynn Jan 20
from the dead soil we’ll grow
we will grow with flowers sprouting from our ears
and we’ll dust of the last few years
watching the inauguration!! holy ******* **** i'm so excited
erica lynn Jan 19
you’ve got one head on me
but in my arms you feel small

i’ve got your wasted potential
balled up in my hands

you’ve got three crashed cars
and no payment plans
it's three in the ******* morning and i just spent the last five to six hours doing a big social studies assignment that i procrastinated and it's official: my last brain cell has died

anyway here's a few incoherent lines from a song i'm trying to write that isn't going anywhere

inspired by the end of the ******* world because i just watched it and it's really good
erica lynn Jan 14
my spinal cord has compressed
into one solid ivory mass
and now sits at the bottom of my stomach
dragging me down to the ground
i would very much like
to never come back up
i would very much like
for my best to be enough
my mental health has been going down the drain recently and my back hurts so ******* much (oh that would actually be a cool name for a poem ahah)

anyway i procrastinated all my work and i've been doing it now for three straight hours and my brain is completely dead

title from my french worksheet because i don't know
Jan 14 · 48
tuesdays suck
erica lynn Jan 14
tuesday always seems to start with the sun
it knocks on my window at eight o’clock sharp
i love the sun
but i resent my south facing windows
that let it pour in and blister my skin
the fire is burning from within
and no amount of water i drink
can quench it
it is wrapped around my heart
making it skitter and scamper around my ribcage
using my spinal cord to pole dance
it burns, and burns with reckless abandon
but my face is trapped, eternally frozen
i sit in my bed and sway quietly
i’ve decided that tuesdays ****
haha my depression is coming back

was going to write this and post it on you know actual tuesday but i had no motivation so here we are
Jan 11 · 61
two sugars, please
erica lynn Jan 11
i used to eat brown sugar by the spoonfuls
sneak down into the kitchen at night
my then uncalloused feet padding across the floor
and let the sugar melt into my bloodstream
and feed the plants growing inside of me

now i salt boiling water by the handfuls
licking the sodium residue off my skin
and hope it kills the wysteria
that covers my ears and shuts me out of the world
and lets my brain race with frightening hysteria

i used to pour almond milk into my coffee
before it all went sour
so now i drink it black
at ungodly hours

i don’t drink tea
i don’t know if i would have it with two sugars
or three
or oat milk and cream
if you asked would i scream
“i don’t know what i need!”
or take a guess and say,
“two sugars, please.”
no i will never stop using the wisteria/hysteria rhyme it is my favorite
erica lynn Jan 10
(tw: ed)

i keep missing breakfast
i don’t intend too
i wake up at noon now
and my brain starts to slow down
and my eyes are filled with dreamless sleep
and soon,
they’ll be filled with unfit me
can’t squeeze into my family
or my old clothes
even though i keep missing breakfast
i don’t intend to
but i used to

twenty nineteen
still not a teen
and i am hunched over a toilet
in the middle of the night
and it doesn’t come out right
not the way i want it to
my head spews
insults as fast as my best friend
jokes that i’m anorexic
cause i only bring an apple to lunch
and i don’t even eat it
i listen to their ****
and i internalize it
and i’m in the kitchen
on the fake granite counter
drying my lips out with salt
and i don’t eat breakfast the next day
to make up for it
i keep missing breakfast
on purpose.
ahhh sorry this is ****
Jan 8 · 36
erica lynn Jan 8
i have a stuffed animal named pug
i named him that because i’m unoriginal
i got him two years ago
at a craft store
and he is the only thing i can hug
without screaming in my head
my fingers would like to touch flesh
that doesn’t char mine to death
i would like to wrap myself up
in a tangle of legs
and hair splayed
and music played
and thoughts decayed
and her whispers saying my name
but she doesn’t exist
but my flesh persists
so i will continue to hug
my stuffed animal named pug
and pretend that i’m not curled in a fetal position
wishing someone would hold me
like the baby
i don’t want.
okie doke here's a very literal poem because i've been very into surrealism recently and i'm starting to get concerned
Jan 8 · 106
crocodiles pt.2
erica lynn Jan 8
i hope they cut up your tongue and serve it on a silver platter
so i can finally get a real piece of you
Jan 7 · 35
erica lynn Jan 7
i am shoving pomegranates into my mouth
whole ones
teeth absorbing white bitter tough
until they gleam a pearly pink
brighter than the kitchen sink
jaw unhinging
like a fist shoved up my throat
to shut me up
when i was little
my mom called it a “hand sandwich”
sandwich bread is white sweet soft
gluing my teeth shut
staining the bread red
this pomegranate juice flows out of my head
out of my ears
cold sticky sour
growing more bitter by the hour.
Jan 6 · 59
erica lynn Jan 6
crocodiles swimming through your tears
i hope they bite
i hope they might
just wrote this whilst songwriting and ******* i actually don't hate it
erica lynn Jan 6
you have licked the tears off of someone else’s skin
with me you wouldn’t have to
cut up your throat
to make me bearable
trying to write a song but it's not going well so far
Jan 3 · 54
support group
erica lynn Jan 3
hello, my name is erica
and i don’t know why i’m here
my parents work a nine to five
and they’re normal-ish
i don’t love them
but that has nothing to do with their competence
hello, my name is erica
and i don’t know why i’m here
i’m average
brown hair
brown eyes
five foot, on the shorter side
hello, my name is erica
and i don’t know why
my brain doesn’t work the way it should
it’s like everyone got a manual
how to survive life: the ultimate guide
and mine never arrived
hello, my name is erica
and i’m average
because i’m part of the four percent
of teenage girls with anorexia
hello, my name is erica
and sometimes i black out and forget that phrase
my name
my name
my name
is erica
i’m erica
and i’m average
i have the basics:
slight adhd tendencies
(we’re not sure cause the doctor won’t diagnose me)
hello, my name is erica
and i hate being on a screen
i can’t recognize myself
i don’t look like me
i don’t feel like me
i don’t feel anything
a borderline psychotic
i wouldn’t miss my family
but they’d miss me
an insomniac
with a coffee drinking problem
that has its roots in boredom
hello, my name is erica
and i’m an addict
blood in bathroom sinks
permanent ink
never coming off of me
this is never washing off of me
hello, my name is erica
and i can’t make it go away
i over stimulate my brain
laugh until i go insane
the second my phone goes away
i’m back in the same place
and my heart feels like it wants to escape
to grow wings and burst out of me
leaving a gaping hole in my chest
stitch me up
stitch me up
stitch me up
please try to fix me
hello, my name is erica
and i know why i’m here
i need you to stitch me back up
i’ve tried sticking needles into my skin
i’ve tried letting the monsters in
and choking me down whole
and teeth cutting through sinew and bones
i hope the stitches work.

hello, my name is erica
and i hope the stitches don’t work
i hope the lemon juice in my bloodstream
dissolves them quickly
i would like to stay this way
in a fetal position
hugging myself
maybe because i’m lonely
maybe because i’m cold
and let the blood seep into my bed sheets
filling them with saline
and i would like to dream
and fade down into my bed sheets
with the saline
and never come back out
and be suffocated by the foam
filling my mouth
my ears
my nose.

hello, my name is erica
i got my name from my dad
i don’t love him
and that’s incredibly average
but i’m not.
another nonsensical word ***** that makes no sense yay
Jan 1 · 62
new years resolutions
erica lynn Jan 1
i have finally clawed my mouth open
from your marionette strings
and i would like to keep it that way
and eat all the ink in the world
so it comes out in perfect times new roman
size twelve font
instead of sitting in my brain
to rot.
happy new year :)
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