7:26am
is where it all began.
Angry words were being thrown
back and forth between a woman
and a man.

A little girl woke up from her dream,
as she heard her name in between those screams.
Tears spilled from her eyes as she began to cry,
asking questions that mostly began with why.

7:26am
a tale of two lovers comes to an end,
leaving a girl with a broken heart
that cannot be mend.

*(n.d.)

A mirror is never just your reflection,
My mother once said
The mind has this devilish way of
Twisting
Things around
Making then a lot more or a lot less
That what stands before me
Suddenly
My face isn't my face anymore
Instead
I stare blankly at a blueprint
Society itself has hand-sketched
For me.
Post-it's on where things had gone wrong
Scribbles on things I needed less of
Highlighters on places I needed
Brighter brights
Thinner thins
And I just stood there
Watching
As these self-proclaimed architects
Unraveled
The plans they had for a body that wasn't theirs.
Accepting
The new rooms they had drawn next to the ones that already existed,
The ones that were always there
The ones I made a home out of,
The mole on my ear
That never seemed out of place
Until,
The impact of a critical post it told me so.
The place where my thighs met
I've always ignored,
Assuming I was normal
But the scribbles that
Begged
For less of me,
Proved otherwise.
The marks of stretched skin
I considered battle scars over a few calories at a buffet table
Nullified
By society's architects
Disapproved
As if it were up to them
Invalid
Like human came in the form of overruns
But I stare at this blueprint that suggests to change me from
Floor to floor
Head to toe
And wonder
If the one who owns the lot in which I am
Wonder
If He wanted to change me anymore than them
If He liked the original rooms
More than the ones carved to fit the trends
If He wanted me to ignore the architects
And the drafts of copies
And copies
And copies
Of different versions of me

Didn't He want me to accept the mirror for who I am?

Sometimes I think that we are more than just
blood pumping, eating, sleeping, repeating

I like to think that we’re here for another purpose
other than to just run the motions and ignore the fact that we are just
brittle bones, empty hearts, tired souls, forgotten woes

Understanding is difficult
accepting it is worse
so we settle on contentment
and call it happiness

I turn my back,
A little slower than I should.
My head tells me to leave,
My brain lectures me,
My conscience taunts me.
But somehow my heart still stutters,
You see, you became a part of me,
And It's hard to lose a part of myself.

Dwelling in the chambers of my mind.
Such a vast and crowded space.
Memories of my past some I wish I could erase.
Images of what I've seen, words describing what I've done.
Just everything and anything to explain who I have become.
The brain is realities best friend and mortal enemy.
What it perceives is what you see. How it processes is how you feel.
Meaning something you encounter may not even be truly real.
So live life day by day, don't try to over think or stress to much.
Dwelling in the chambers of my mind.
Natures one creation that will always provide a rush.

The aching turns to
   Throbbing
And it's breaking my ribs again.

The faux colours after the rain
    Fade
Dimming to black once more.

It's a hamster wheel I'm stuck in
     Rotating
Dragging me up and down,
    Rupturing semi-calloused skin.

Bashing my head against bars
     Locked
In this place, a metaphorical mental jail.

Stuttering words that shatter my teeth
   Nonsense
This sadness isn't real,
   Yet It's here.
And I can feel it. It's drowning me.
I can't breathe. But it isn't real.
So I find solace in it like binding myself to a religion that doesn't leave a bubbling sensation on my tongue.

This word is dark and everything is tasteless.
    I can't remember what sunshine tastes like
On the back of my eyes.

Besides, I've lost all feeling in my brain
And my nose bleeds again
    But I bashed my face against a wall
So maybe it's my numbness dripping on the floor.

Pain leaves me in maniacal bliss.
Blood rushing, heart pumping, I begin to lose my grip.
Unleashing a part of me I have never seen before.
Insane, untamed, having me begging for some more.
Thoughts racing through my head makes me feel so psychotic.
Wouldn't be able to see this side of me normally, pain is purely just ******.
I am truly a sensitive man who isn't labeled as evil or tough.
Controlling my inner feelings till pain is introduced then it becomes very rough.
Showing that I'm really a freak of nature, a misfit who isn't strong willed.
Pain to me is natures way of showing how reality can be killed.

I'll never be as great as her. I will never escape the expectations. Neither will I ever be anything more than, a relative to the bright star. I'll be in the corner.

People expect me to be as good, as creative, as talented, as perfect..but I never will be. I could make the most beautiful dress ever seen, and it still wouldn't be worth anything more.

It's like a dark cloud covers me. A feeling of 'am I going to be enough?' It's not jealousy, or self-pity. It is that feeling of emptiness. That feeling of wanting to be useful. That feeling of wanting to succeed.

I'm not secure in myself. My confidence drops faster, than my tears in the dead of night.

I guess I am afraid of being just the 'sister'. I guess I feel like nothing I do will compare.

I just want to make people proud.