rest easy sweet soul
i love you, i miss you
you will never ever be forgotten, you are one-of-a-kind
your beautiful face when you’re sleeping
your beautiful voice, singing in the car with you
your humor, and how you made me laugh so hard i cried countless times
you are my brother forever
the tony to my effy
i’m going to miss your aarbear hugs the most
your laugh and your perfect impressions/quotations of our favorite lines from our favorite shows
i will miss the way you get under my skin
so many people loved you buddy..
it’s crazy, because you thought nobody would show up to your funeral, but so many people did
maybe, hopefully, you knew deep down how loved you were
i'm so so sorry for all of my shittiness
but for as hard as we fought, we sure loved just as much and more
i know you would have hated some things about your funeral, but i hope you appreciate the ***** breaking bad and ooof maddon stickers, and tony soprano gold chain and medallion we put on you in your casket. it looked amazing on you
i’ll love meadow and see you in her, and feel close to you when i’m walking her
this wasn’t meant to happen.. i still expect to see a message or tweet or update from you when i wake up
you are forever in my heart ♥️ rip grains

I have been so depressed today. I’m going to be 26 soon. So much time has passed. I don’t know where I thought I’d be at this age, but I’m here. Happy thanksgiving, love 🖤

i feel the new year coming
i haaaaaaate the cold so bad
if all goes according to plan then i’ll have my mom’s ashes after christmas
i’m working on the gym ****
to be completely honest i’ve started restricting again, longest i can go is two days ehh
i’m working on the social phobia
i’ve been places myself with earbuds and you know what i’m proud actually
i still haven’t self harmed
idk exactly how long it’s been since i self harmed
i see the therapist on thursday so i suppose it’ll be a ****** tHurSdAy. Jk.. ? Um it really is just poor humor and i hate myself
work ***** but it’s gotta be done so i’m doing the thing
drinking lots of water
yeah
xoxo
-faith/ nobody

meds have been working
head has been hurting
forever needing sedation
truthfully wondering why
i even get up and try
resisting every temptation

to cut myself feels so familiar
on my legs and tummy and arm
once on my neck
i wish somebody else would cut me
euphoria

i’ll only rhyme when i want to
i’ll always cry when i say your name
if we had another chance you
might cut off my wings as a game

cut off my wings
right my wrongs with my blood
cut on my body
just deep enough, love

you taught me that love is irrelevant
because i loved you with everything
and yet our love was bad, black, burnt
and even though i loved you,
i’d have still walked away the same
because i always knew you’d be the end of me

and now it’s been so many years since you cradled my face
and the thought makes me cringe
because even though i didn’t say no
losing my virginity wasn’t what i wanted

not there, not then, not yet
but it was gone and then you were gone
and i slowly realized you never loved me
i was just like the rest

expendable and unimportant
at least, that’s how you made me feel in the gutter on your street above mine at night without touching me without looking at me without tears and without shame

i gave you what innocence i had left
and you ruined my soul
a permanent mark
i still have nightmares of you
i still wake up screaming
you etched yourself into me
and left me sitting in the gutter on your street above mine at night without touching me without looking at me without tears and without shame

i will forever regret you, but i could never take you back
it was an uncontrollable connection - karmic
fate i think because
you taught me what love was
and what love felt like once corrupted

now i no longer mistake lust for love
i recognize that love is nothing like how i thought it to be
love is easy
love flows like grass in the wind
it doesn’t feel scary or forced
love is much more than pretty words left on my front porch

love isn’t abusive or harmful
love isn’t doing everything to please another
love isn’t lies
love isn’t you

but it’ s interesting,
now i no longer suffer abuse
and yet i must inflict physical pain on myself
to feel alive

dear cutting,
thank you

love, me

addicted to clon
addicted to nicotine
addicted to flexeril
addicted to you
addicted to self harm
addicted to restricting
addicted to being intoxicated

when my brain wanders
i’m reminded of pain
all the meds can’t cure it
but they make me more sane

  when i look in the mirror
  and feel nothing
  when i realize i have sad eyes
  tears forming start to sting

    when i count the scars on my body
   shocked and reserved
   i manage to not mind them
   and miss the hurt

     physical pain is euphoric
     reminding me i’m just a human
     cutting brings me breath
     like when i got the wind knocked out of me
  
         this is the cycle i need to break
         i can’t keep feeling pain
         though it’s a familiar friend
         i need to vanquish faith

           i feel the only way to do that
           is to leave this world
           a blip fluke of a human
           just.. forgotten dust

              not dissimilar to the dust in the pills
              keeping me here
              momma give me strength
              i need to feel you near

so i’m now 24 yrs old
most of my life consists of work, but i’ve been calling in more ever since July 4th of last year, when i had a miscarriage. that experience changed me in a lot of ways, and unfortunately caused me to call in or take off a day. i’ve never been like that, i’ve always been very reliable, never called in. idk i guess the miscarriage made me mature more in a way. i don’t feel completely the same. but i’ve already committed to never being late (always early) to work, and not calling in for the rest of the year. so there should be no other issue there. but i feel like maybe i should get some sort of degree in a field there will always be a job. maybe become certified in my current occupation. or start over with something like becoming a dental hygienist, or embalming or pet training or maybe something simple like a barista haha..idk what to do.
but i guess the main goal now is to get into shape for the beach in july, i’m soooo excited/nervous. the only time i’ve been to the beach and have seen the ocean was when i was suuuuper young like 5 yrs old, maybe. so i hardly remember it, so this is the first time i’ll visit the ocean in my adult life, um yes. excited. it’s a superficial goal to get beach body ready, but i’ll look good which will make me feel confident to just forcus on socializing and relaxing. beach stuff, i guess? yes :) also i need to make appointments for my jaw (TMJ) bone loss, deviated septum, and restricted airway, and a dental appointment, and a knee specialist. i desperately need a hair cut, but i also want to dye it. i’m seriously thinking ashy light silvery gray. idk if that’ll look good but that’s what i’m thinking!! except i wouldn’t be surprised if i default to black or red out of stress in trying the unknown. i also want layers in my hair, or long side bangs. i want to get all of my family members presents this year. i want to get in a mf hot tub at some point. i want to rock climb. i want my eyebrows microbladed and possibly some freckles..... and eyelash extensions. i want to finally read those threee books i have. i want to finish this letter about mormonism. i want to completely stop self harming. or at least go longer than 6 months without it. i want to possibly do boxing, it would be very good for me.
so those are my own personal goals, and i could get it all done soooo quick but my anxiety really gets in the way. i just don’t like going outside and people looking at me. it’s lame and stress-inducing. idk i just want to find out what’s going on with my body, it hurts all over especially my face from my jaw.
there has been a slight shift in how i perceive this world and my life. i’m pretty much banking on reincarnation because i fuuuuucked up a lot already.

i’ve made it to 24 momma,

the door in my old room. the one with light blue sky and clouds painted over every inch of the walls. the two window sills in my room, with the dirt from when i’d go in and out of them. my ceiling from which i hung wind chimes. my bunk bed that had alllllll my stuffed animals on the top bunk. with a book called the anybodies (my favorite as a kid) to read on the top bunk with the fan on. anyway,
the door in my old room. i wasn’t allowed to close it, so i almost never did. but when i did, it was so I could write and draw on the white backside. my teenage poetry. pure, ****** poetry.
well i wonder if it’s all still there.
nostalgia is a slow, everlasting-like ******. a guaranteed good feeling. because i feel just enough sorrow that it’s the really good feeling pain because also, i’m happy as if i’m happy crying. if that makes sense
“i know it well” blood bank
momma, i miss you. i feel you. i only wish to ever be enough, and to be a good person.
even the best of us aren’t perfect hm?
my old door was cool. i miss some of those times. i feel like thinking about the lyric “hearts are broken every day.” has been messing with me lately. heartbreak (don’t judge me aight) reminds me that i am human. heartbreak makes me feel mortal in a way few things can. so what is the point of my life when i already know such heartbreak, it’s impacted me a lot, but it is simultaneously an every single day, multiple times per second occurrence. very common. very common **** my ****. that **** hurts in a good way you feel me?

when consumed with the torturous thought of growing old and just
wanting to end it now
is when i truly feel the most
clinical.
depression
the crux of the matter i’m just
recovering from past lives i cannot imagine
grey days are days i wish eternal death on myself
all of me, my entire soul, body, thought, potential, existence
gone.

lock me in a building
a room, if you will
padded ****-me walls
to terrorize my mind
and, most importantly,
fix me
and i wonder
are psychotic girls a good ****

I didn’t sleep tonight
Well.
I did something kinda
I never remember being a typical child. I was always wary. And very aware of everything. And I can’t remember a time where my brain wasn’t bouncing around, inquisitive. No matter who you are, there are small things you do that aren’t actually unique. All humans twitch in a spot on their face when they’re disgusted. We all have a nervous tick. Etcetera. Knowing this as a child made me very self conscious. My ego would say it made me self “aware”. But I watched my movements. And paid attention to my nervous tick. Phrases I would pick up and find amusing, and why. I was so careful not to do anything that would put me in a vulnerable spot. I wanted to be perfectly unnoticeable.
And I decided tonight, I’d go through the years that were especially hard for me and addresss the trauma in a chronological order.
Some of my very first memories ever in my life were of violations. I was touched and caressed, but not by my mother. This terrible man with a bit of a belly. And I would have thought it was normal, except for the sick bottomless pit in my stomach. And my rigid muscles. And it hurt sometimes.
Then I remember being with my mother. And staying at the white house with the flower pots filled with cigarette ash instead of soil. And I kinda liked it. The flower pots I mean. But I absolutely loved being with her. So many memories with her. So many sunny memories.
But I started seeing her less and less. And it was just weird. And uncomfortable. I had somewhat numbed myself, and hence there were many years spent I’m a daze. I was dreaming. But it was a melancholy dream. And I remember the foster kids my parents fostered. And they made me do things with another family member. Multiple times. And it was just so odd to me that this would happen, I didn’t know if this was normal or not. But I thought all this time I was somehow responsible and I’m trouble. Or at least, if I discussed this with any adult, it would be entirely unorthodox. Ludacrious.
And there was so much pain.
Then I had grand mal serizures (or however you spell it idc) for around two years I think. Only about like 8? Seizures. But every time it happened I just felt my memory going away. It was the strangest sensation. I would lose an entire week here or there, and days after they happened I would be a little dysphoric. And maybe there is a god that had mercy on me, and gave me those seizures as a way to literally forget some of what I had been through. Or repress I guess.
Anyway, then I was a very charismatic, secretly introverted girl during junior high. I had my first kiss and it really ******. It was just... tense-*** lips smushing against mine. I also had my lips closed though because I didn’t know you parted them for kisses. Like I had always seen my mom and dad do a quick peck so I didn’t know what to do really. But he said I was a good kisser, but what junior high boy wouldn’t say that about any girl he kissed tbh.
And I became VERY devout in the religion I had been raised in. Full-on future missionary. I read the scriptures frontto back multiple times. Blah blah blah.
Then I met my first love, and there was an electric shock that went through my body. I was mesmerized by this feeling. I shook his hand, told him my name, and he told me his. That went on and off from 9th? Grade? until I graduated and a little after. It was a long relationship, full of a lot of different times. Good times, bad times. But mainly we were toxic to each other. We didn’t know how to love properly. He was fighter, who believed he was the king of kings. And I thought that in every single way, he was. I was truly bewitched. And he’d hold me tight, and wouldn’t let me go, even when I wanted to be let go. He collapsed at my feet and sobbed in my lap. And I did the same with him. We were so wounded, but similar. And found solace and endless banter in a moment together.
At this point my mother died. And I travelled barely out of state to attend her funeral. I saw all of my siblings. And stuff slowly started coming back to me. Weird snippets of early childhood existence. I couldn’t process it all, and so I emotionally shut down for the billionth time. But my first love was here for me.
Leaving a note on my doorstep that I remember particularly. “On sunny days, on rainy days. You are just as sweet.” With cherry blossoms.
Funny, my mother smelled like Japanese cherry blossoms.
So eventually we had raging hormones, young teens, and we started becoming intimate. But I was rigid. And in the back of my head, I knew why. I had repressed the repeated acts of abuse throughout my entire life. But I just wanted to forget about that. It didn’t make sense, I loved him, so why should I shy away from physical/****** interaction. I believed I was broken, something more was wrong with me. And one night he fingered me, I guess he had learned that from watching ****? Because I had no idea what he was doing. And it hurt because I wasn’t even wet. But I just was silent with a clenched jaw, not wanting to be a disappointment. The next thing, I lost my virginity to him. And what’s funny is the way he convinced me to is by saying, “For Science!”
I still find that amusing. I was like 17 or 18 I think and still a ******. I should have stayed one. The first time we had *** and I lost my virginity just seemed like I was sleepwalking. I was watching myself interact sexually with him, but I wasn’t present. Every single time I was sexually abused rushed back to my mind. And I felt as though somebody had cut off my limbs, severed my head, packed my whole body (piece by piece) into a business briefcase. And walked out the door with my body.
After that I kind of freaked out. Just too much going on. I couldn’t handle it. And my first love tried to **** himself in the months following. I think, after almost four years of companionship, we had *** only a handful of times, and it got easier and easier for me. But he tried to **** himself after we were “off” again. So I went right by his side, trying to piece together his life so he could be at peace. And not have the turbulent mind he had. And we were together. But then I had gotten up the courage to break it off again, and for good. We needed to move on. I knew what I was going to say to him, I knew I wanted to be close and have one last moment together. Finality. Closure.
But he said, “you kissed another guy. You cheated on me.” And in my head I was like no **** really what about the multiple girls that were your “friends” that you cheated on me with. Throughout the entire relationship? But I said yes, he kissed me. And I’m sorry. And he said, “We’re done.” And got up and walked off, leaving me on the curb in front of his house. No words can describe the torture it was to finally be done. And to have it be on his terms, with no closure. He was so cold. I hated it when he was like that. It was like looking in a mirror.
And that’s all I can talk about.
Funny timing, it’s 7:30 am. No sleep since yesterday at 8:00 am. Ramblings of a tormented soul.
But that was the thing I did tonight. Remember my earliest memories, and go through my life in chronological order. Accepting that it happened. At least to this point. I think I’ll keep going tonight, we’ll see.
But it’s wednesday, and I definitely need to shower for work.
-nobody

****** into this existence
of such recurring pain
a wound that never heals
dull and aching
did i ask for this
in lifetimes i don’t remember?
and will we see each other again
will i be your angel
again
i wonder when this world will end
far after i am gone
but i yearn to be reborn
this cannot be the end
i feel lifetimes inside me
the chemical reactions in my body
remembering every past experience
but i’m forever in a stupor
when will i reach
omniscience
stuck in this existence
of which i did not ask for
that has not much to offer

trying to survive my 20's
i try so hard to forget
everything my eyes have seen
and everything i've ever said

there's no way to tell what's real
when i think back it's all a blur
i try so hard not (to feel
every day) and every word

disconnection from myself
and the reality i've created
and the girl i try to sell
and the things that i've hated

for every thing i've loved
has left me so aware
of who i am the lonesome dove
with tired wings (to tear

a part) of my existence
made most sense to me
now i worry i wasted
the years that i was free

(you) want from me transparency
of which i cannot give
when i look inward the girl i see
is a mystery of wind

how can i explain i'm a ghost
of who you think i am
you love her most
you should have (ran

from me) i have a gift
you're not the only fooled
all the words along my lips
are all survival tools

a creature born from loss
i know nothing else
but to rise (from chaos)
no matter the expense

i wonder how much longer
i can not **** myself
subject to this torture
do i belong among the angels
or in the depths of hell

I feel nothing and everything at once
I feel shell shocked but haven't been to war
The weight of my limbs keeping me here
And the heart beating so fast is ironic
My mind's iconic
I see blue all around me
My eyes are grey
Giving myself a headache
I wander outside of my body
It's scary
And terrifying is the sound of my voice
But I have to keep breathing
In sync with my breath I think
I'm thinking a lot as I start to panic
I feel like I'm dying
Everything in side of me is ultrasonic
I'm crying
And if this is what feeling is like
I'd rather not
An epiphany
Maybe my panic attacks happen
As a result of me not letting myself
Feel

I used to have a diary that I named 'Tina' because somebody told me that it made writing easier. As a way to get me to journal.. ?
Dear Tina,
I feel so incapable and small. I feel like **** for all of my short comings. But more than that, I feel like **** for the **** I've had to go through. I hate how as I feel every feeling and especially when it gets bad, my mind instantly goes to the logical side of things. "You're feeling this way as a result of not taking your medication. You're feeling this way because of experiences you had as a child, and that's completely normal." And I list all of the reasons why I feel the way I feel. Why the **** do I have to make logical sense out of how I feel and not just simply let myself feel?
And none of this matters at all. Because at the end of the day it's still going to hurt, and I'm never going to forget my childhood. And I don't know HOW to move on.
And then there are the good days and feelings of euphoria where I feel the pain and I am able to address it without letting it consume me. I know it's there, but there's so much more than pain. Thank god for the times where I'm actually really happy.
But tonight I feel like ****. And I miss my mom. And I even miss the house with ciggarettes in the flower pots. I just really wish I could hug my mom again one last time. And feel her heart beat against mine again. I wish I could have said goodbye. I'll never have that closure. And I'll never have a do-over.
I only hope to be a better person than I am today, and keep on growing. I hope to be kind and compassionate even when I've grown to be so cynical. I hope to never stop finding the sky beautiful and majestic, or the wind soothing.
And I hope to always be worthy of the love those closest to me give me. Because that really is what keeps me going when it comes down to it.
Those that love me make it all worth it.

i can't make myself happy
when i can't get off this chair
too anxious to stop crying
silently hating my stare

my face is so ****** ugly
i'm shaking, i'm trying to stop
nothing could ever console me
this dark and familiar spot

depression that grabs me is all too familiar
i'm crippled and tired, too tired to care

a few pills will save me from cutting my body
again and again i'll make myself sleep
it's always been there, this darkness and crying
but now i know that it's better to sleep

because it escalates to rage and seeing spots
and punching holes in the wall and filling holes from inside with
alcohol and cigarettes and petting my pride

my egotistical mind that thinks that if i look good
at least i have that, and that's one thing i have

so i spend hours in front of the mirror painting my face and doing my hair and ******* hating my face, my ****** stare

if i look long enough i see myself change and no longer am i fragile, i'm filling that space
where i can't hurt i  just harm and push everyone away
it's harder to ache and to look at my face
than it is to get cold and harder to touch and harder to shove

and i can't replace my face with anyone else's
so i better make it perfect
keep on going and try to calm down
keep myself busy and play music loud

so typical.
it's a cycle.
i'm trying.
still breathing.

I used to have this dream
There was a huge house in the forest
It was night, but well lit
I had been ***** and then
The man who ***** me took me apart
Limb by limb and piece by piece
No blood
And packed me in a briefcase
And walked out with the briefcase

My mother was a dreamer
My father was a sinner
And now I am  a daughter
With nowhere to call home

I laid out all the pictures
Constructing my memory
I was a happy little girl
Forgetting all my eyes had seen

I hid it deep inside
Every dark thing
Until one day once you'd died
I remembered everything
_

And now it consumes my thought
I try so hard to **** it
Abused and broken on the floor
There's a knife - a leg split

I'm far too vain to cut my arms
So I cut my legs
Why do I do this - it hurts
"Bittersweet", I said

Walking in the dark among the streets I knew
I remember you, the sky was black
And I was pale with fright of you

You smothered me, too much for me to bear
I couldn't scream I couldn't breathe
And you really didn't care

Punching me in my stomach
I felt a knot in my throat
I tried to form a fist, I couldn't
Felt my spirit start to float

Sleep paralysis is how my memories came back
It started with nightmares of me walking
And ending with me dying

the last time i saw you it had been a couple of years
it was night time and the moon was clear
everything was glistening with fresh snow
you brought my younger half sister and brother
we were all visiting in the house decorated for christmas day
suddenly you said you needed to go outside
and i really didn't know why you wanted to go outside
i sat there and i felt pretty awkward
not knowing if it would be okay to follow you
i finally went outside and kind of hurried because i didn't put on a coat
i noticed you were in your car and went over there to open the door
as soon as i did a bunch of cigarette smoke came out of the car
i immediately was taken back to a time when i was younger and it was summer
you had come to visit again and i caught you smoking a cigarette by my parents garage
i playfully yelled that i caught you
but now it was cold and i was confused
most of all i didn't want you to be uncomfortable or sad
i hopped in and  now i don't remember what i said, but
i remember your hair so wild and your hands
your thumbs were kind of stubby and your hands were strong
i remember feeling like i was the reason you were sad
you put out your cigarette and you were shaking so bad
i didn't know why you were shaking because it was actually pretty warm in the car
looking back i realize you were experiencing withdrawals
and i hugged you
we hugged for a long time and i'm blessed to still know what it felt like in that moment
i'll never forget how your hair smelled like japanese cherry blossoms
and how our hearts were right next to each other and beating in unison
i always knew you were my mother
knew i was your angel of which you reminded me so often
and knew i would always be connected to you
but i realized that we were the same
all the things that separated us didn't make us any different
to love you is to love myself and all my demons
to have been your angel is a forever calling
i am your angel
at your side
even when it's heaven you lie
forever your daughter
forever my mother
you are the blossoms
when i start to wither
thank you for giving me life
and thank you for love unconditional
thank you for memories of roses and tapes
dancing and clotheslines and bruises and scrapes
and for showing me that imperfection is a blessing
we are human and shouldn't get lost in reason
you were a dreamer and now are forever in the skies
it seems so fitting
you had the stars in your eyes
mother i love you
never goodbye
only i love you's
and sweet lullabies

i am the cracks on the front porch
he is the ants crawling inside and out
you are the water drowning us all
thank god
ending it all
i am the blades of grass in the yard
you are the wind
swaying me back and forth
and i love you

I used to believe in more than myself and more than this world. I would think of my mother and imagine that she had ascended into another existence. I grew to hate my existence. But there were times when I looked upon the beautiful night and it took my breath away. And in those moments, I knew that this was a blessing. To even breathe. And I truly believed in the human ability to become more like the dusk and dawn. So quiet. So true.
I had forgotten the spirituality of letting everything go and simply let myself just exist.
To look at the sky and mountains and stars is a blessing.
To feel the rain and wind and dirt on your feet is a joy.
To taste the tears on your face and the loves of this world is a luxury.

when i was younger, i breathed in the spring
and felt the warmth pass through my feet
i ran through the grass that had long since been green,
and picked all the flowers alive close to me
i knew the creatures were treasures to be
i knew the sun and my time on the swing,
was spent with the birds
my arms to match wings,
of which i adorned as gifts from small things
and then i met you and first craved the winter
wearing your gaze to warm me and shelter
your skin, unlike mine, was pale like the hatter
your dark hair grew darker
your crazed eyes aglimmer
to which i mistook the shining for summer,
when your luster and glare were morbid and bitter
the fire i lit within you grew bigger,
but you, a black hole, to eat and then wither
taking my all to return ever favor
as empty as gardens, dead, prime to splinter
to hold and to cherish, your bride, the sinner