A small needful fact
Is that 98% of women
Do not look like fashion models.
100% of American children
Are being lied to everyday
Told they are not normal
Told there is something wrong with them.
Another needful fact:
More than two million women
More than eight hundred thousand men
Are bulimic
Add, subtract, multiply, divide
Any way you try to solve the problem
It still exists like a parasite.
If any girl, boy, child, man, woman
Wants to escape these images
Running with cupped ears in the other direction
Hoping to save themselves
It follows them, rank with the smell of sewage
It is the ghost in the closet
Television set
Store aisle
Telling them they are not good enough
They cannot escape the lies so dense
Even their inner most breath
Is hot with deception
And so, even the most basic function of breathing
Becomes challenging.
Until we replace poison with water
Brokenness with holiness
Lies with truthfulness
These seemingly sorrowful statistics
Will never quite add up.

Truth be told
I want to cut my memory out of your veins
Watch you bleed me into a puddle on the floor
I hope you enjoy watching what you've done to me

Truth be told
Please don't speak my name again
It smells like rancid meat dripping out out of your saliva
You are not the first who has taken advantage
But I pray you will be the last

Truth be told
I don't really hate you
I just said that over the phone
Because I hated that I couldn't keep your faith in me
When your body came crashing into me like a tidal wave
Then, I had your trust
Then, I had your attention
Then, I had you

Truth be told
I don't miss you anymore
But I don't want you to remember me as I was
Or as I am
I know I will be someone of great esteem one day
And you?
You'll be here with your **** in one hand
And a pack of cigarettes in the other
Wishing I had been cut from your body
Before you let me inside.

i.
In the shower under cold water, I scrubbed and scrubbed
I wanted to rid myself of my own skin
Escape into a mine so I could live among the coal
A fuel almost as ***** as I felt.

ii.
As he pulled away from me
As he broke me into pieces
Shattered glass lay upon the seat of his car
I know what it's like to escape into a stranger's hot breath
The weight of a warm wash cloth upon my back
Pressing down again.

iii.
I prayed my wings would grow back in time
For me to fly to places I could never see
Before, my vision was black in white
Suddenly, I could see in color
His memory continues to pluck the feathers
But once again, I see the value of bone.

iv.
I tried to move on
Forget the thrashing of your memory
Like a gong, clanging symbol
Leave my mind alone
Leave me be

v.
Free me of broken pieces of the years I lost
Minutes, I lost bleeding from the inside out, razor eloquently in hand
Hours, I lost to purging myself of your uncleanliness
Days, I lost dredging my soul in therapy, hoping to dig up something that would do me some good
Years, I lost to the talons of PTSD
Depression
Anxiety.

vi.*
Finally, some hope
I taste it on my tongue like raindrops after the drought
Sunlight after the storm
I find myself
And lose the taint of you, heavy laden upon my skin
You are a cavity
Filled by love and support.
And finally, there's beauty in the struggle
It's anything but brief
Because the fight goes on
Forever.

Pull the trigger
Tick, tick, boom the bomb explodes
I am ticking like a time bomb
Ticking becomes tremors
Tremors become I can't breathe
Nor handle this much longer.

Pull the trigger
Touching me in certain ways
The smell of mushrooms
The anxiety that won't stop circling
All look like the barrel of a loaded gun.

Pull the trigger
Trigger warnings on songs, poems, anything
Aren't taken seriously
Causing me to have episodes
Causing me to bleed on the outside
From the inside out.
I now hardly exist
And these things make it harder
So please
Pull the trigger

This is the poem I never wanted to write:
The blaming myself for things out of my control poem;
The feeling crushed by everyone's expectations poem;
The I never knew I could hate myself this much poem;
The facing my own mind is scarier than facing any demon poem;
The shameless nights I'm embarrassed to own up to in the morning poem;
The talking too fast and scaring people away poem;
The crying too frequently and wanting to waste away like a rotting flower poem;
The meaningless metaphors and stale similes poem;
The I can't see his face because it fills me with grief poem;
The I can't see his mother's face because it fills me with guilt poem;
The but I didn't do anything wrong poem;
The but emotionally I can't grasp the concept poem;
The then, hands all over me poem;
The now, hands holding a bottle of Jack poem;
The no, I'm not an alcoholic but I get tipsy to cope poem;
The I never get just tipsy anymore poem;
The lying to my parents poem;
The clinging to my parents poem;
The hating myself for every bit of it poem;
The now we're finally getting somewhere poem;
The maybe I should tell my therapist what's going on in my head poem;
The maybe I better keep it to myself poem;
The losing faith in everything poem;
The needing faith in something poem;
The needing faith in myself poem;
The wounded bird learning to fly again poem;
The maybe I can finally move on poem;
This is the poem I've always wanted to write.

Dear you,
I miss you.
The name of a spice that smells so sweetly in the spring
Your name was so fitting.

Dear you,
How are you?
I live in my own pain that smells like a sewage plant
You have nothing do with it
You were always kind.

Dear you,
How dare you be so kind?
How dare you believe me
The person who accused your son of being a child molester?
Although, I never spoke poison
Everything I said was true
Why did you believe me?

Dear you,
I had trouble believing myself.
Knowing this happened
I detached so eloquently from the event
For seven years
I formed an alter ego
In which I could live comfortably

Dear you,
Are you comfortable?
I really do hope I didn't tear your family apart
As I seem to be so privy at
Why, just look at mine.
I played a heavy hand in the way
It's pretty ****** up

Dear you,
You are the only person who didn't treat me like a **** up
When you had every reason to
You never blamed me
You apologized for him
So why am I still holding onto this guilt?
Why am I so ashamed to see you?
Why am I so fearful?
Because, even though you never blamed me
I have always blamed myself.

Unwarranted guilt crushes you
Until you can't feel anymore.
First it's intense pain
Then it's utter numbness
No one tells you that after it shocks
It leaves you empty
To chase some sort of hope you've lost along the way
No one tells you guilt is not something you feel
It's something you are
Converting your mind to darkness
Before you know where you exist
Whether in a lover's arms
Or between your abuser's legs
No one tells you that even though it wasn't your fault
You will believe it was
You will hate yourself for thinking that way
Because it hinders you from healing
No one tells you that even though you live in a bubble
Frozen and devoid of emotion
Breathing is still hard
Not to feel the air moving and passing through your lungs
But to consciously have to keep it functioning
To keep going.
No one tells you physical symptoms occur
And it will take you days to notice the problem
Inability to move from your slumber
Check
Nausea every time you leave the house
Check
Recurrent headaches and migraines
Check
And yet
Nothing hurts anymore
No one tells you the reason you can't feel a thing
Is because you're not living
Is because you're barely surviving
Is because you're already dead.