you haven't exercised in a week
you haven't exercised and you've been eating a lot - ice cream and candy and not entirely healthy things
you haven't exercised and you've been eating a lot and you've developed a slight pudge around your tummy where previously you wanted rock hard abs because you wanted to be strong
but you're finding that strong isn't what you've made it to be
maybe strong is more than slim bodies and powerful arms...maybe
and the strangest part of this journey of self-discovery is that, as your stomach starts to make itself a delicate padding and as you roll over in bed instead of going for a run, you are curiously the most happy you've been in weeks
and you love your body and it makes sense and you are *happy

another year by herself
convincing her own heart that it thrives when its alone, that somehow watching her friends flip-fall in love is a good thing even though she's nowhere near it
it's okay to be alone
she knows that
everyone is single at one time or another
maybe what hurts is that she has nothing to compare it to
no relationship to look back on with longing
because she understands she isn't entirely desirable
her voice is loud and grating, her mood swings wild and high
she's small and she packs a punch and she opens her fat mouth too much for her own good
boys don't like girls that don't shut up
she feels like such a hypocrite!
she knows she shouldn't aim to please boys and she doesn't, she really doesn't
she just wishes there was a boy who was pleased by her the way she was

Does anything that anyone does even matter
Sure I've got religion but it feels like it doesn't apply because on some level I have a knowledge that I'll be alright but then there's this other level that likes throwing very speedy and illegal curve ***** from around the corner of existence and I'll be fine one minute and crying the next and I've been called childish for that (I resent that alex keene) but I am
We all are
Humans are too fragile to be allowed emotion to be allowed relationships with other people
Like I can't take care of someone else's stability, do I look like I have my life together?
That's why trusting is so difficult because to me real trust is knowing you can complain to someone without feeling annoying and knowing they'll listen and not judge you and actually care what you say
But all of this is going into the void anyway and no one will read it so does it matter
Does anything matter, we're back here again
nothing matters nothing matters nothing
My brain quite legitimately reminds me of this and that's not pretentious poetry BS

I wish my head would turn off and go to sleep and then maybe I wouldn't have racoon eyes and my mom would stop complaining about my sour disposition

what a lot of people don't understand is that it gets the worst at night
everything gets too close to real and suddenly blurring the world with eyes squinted shut isn't quite as effective
my stomach drops out and panic worms through my chest and it doesn't matter if I just had the best day of my life because none of that is important when I can't breathe

The more I think about it
The more I put it off
The more I realize that you were just a distraction
That your love was just a reaction
That I could wake up tomorrow and leave as you make ****** coffee in our tiny kitchen whose tiles are chipped because we threw that party and your friend got drunk and busted them with a steak knife
We laughed about it later
But I think it was scary
And that’s how it always was
We could laugh it off and call them good times
but when I showered and the water was cold and sent icepricks down my spine and numbed the bruises from your hands was when I knew
you couldn’t change
I stuck around a little longer because I thought you made me happy
and I thought that /without you/
I was nothing more than an empty shell
A fragile frame filled with childish hopes and dreams
A girl who wanted to grow into a woman but she couldn’t
Not while she was with you
I packed my bags last night and I left the apartment while you were showering
I’m going back to my parents’ house and I’m going to figure out what I’m doing
and then maybe that girl can get her life straightened into a long highway instead of the crumbling sidewalk she once shared with you

you made me forget that i had acne and an unattractive bulge around my middle
you made me think that life was more than a dead end i accidently turned down
you made the stretch marks on the inside of my thighs into stars mapping constellations
you made getting up and remembering to breathe and hydrate seem important again
you made those empty feelings tuck away into a neat folder labeled NO at the back of my mind
you made the call of release softer
the strangling cacophony quieter
the heartflutters and catchbreaths less...disabling
you called my pale skin creamy and my cold heart warm and you traced love into my back after a night full of passion to remind me that yes you were real and yes this was life
and it was worth living
until
until
until
my lists of diagnosis became overwhelming and the pill bottles stacked up
your mom called me unstable and your sister shot sympathetic looks through lenses of dismay
your caress became hesitant and your words became darts
(that’s ten points for an insult and a bullseye if you make her cry)
i came back to a place we used to call home together and all that you left was your old university hoodie and a note saying you loved me
it didn’t seem to mean as much anymore

You're supposed to get up every day and walk with purpose
Smile and greet others
Push your cheeks up until it hurts
Laugh at the right times and be quiet when you're told
Be kind
Apologize
Make sure everyone knows they're important because you're not sure you are
And as a woman you must be gentle and loving because women never lose their temper, never think ill of somebody else, never let that all important façade drop
You're pretty sick of it
because you feel like you're dying
but no one takes it seriously because you're an overemotional female
So it's probably just hormones (***, you know) and you'll get over it in a few days
Yes, you're fine, you say when asked because you know they don't really want to know
what goes on inside your pretty, smiling head

she had acne on her back and chest and sometimes she forgot to shave her legs
she had small eyes and a loud laugh and sometimes she was annoying
he had a pudgy stomach and sometimes he forgot to talk for a few days
he hated himself and sometimes he carved patterns into his skin
sometimes she would kiss his scars or his stomach
sometimes he would snuggle into her back and insist she was funny
sometimes they held hands in the hallway
(hers were small and the nails were bitten and
his were broad and the nails dusted with black polish)
they weren’t very pretty but that was okay
because
sometimes she became so overwhelmed by his silence that she held him for days straight
and
sometimes he stopped her never-ending nervous chatter with soft lips on lips
and
sometimes when the voices in their heads got too loud they spent the night out on his roof
talking about their future in the stars
and it didn’t matter that neither of their parents approved
or that their grades were slipping from pure distraction
or that she might be moving if she doesn’t get her act together
because
theirs is the kind of affection that means knowing morning breath and inside thoughts
and loving each other because of it all