I don't want to be me anymore
I want to be someone
Different from who you all know.
So here is my new name.
At least on the internet
Because I can't stand to be called
Jess and I always wanted to
Name a girl Kori,
But I don't really think I'll
Want kids, so who better
To name than myself?

At midnight, I hastily
Tore threw a book
Trying to find the things that
Keep me some kind of
Sane
But I couldn't find them
And I wanted to yell
And I fell to the floor
To search for my home
Only to find them on
Page 111 of
My favorite book.
And at 12:10
This morning
It happened the first time.

I stumbled away from
The line I had left
And I picked up
The thing that hold
My tiny life and I escape
To a little box
In the corner and I
Pulled the new one
Off of the page
And it happened for
The second time.

I threw a different
Book my bag and
Walked away again
Only to find myself back
Where I had been half
An hour before
And I locked the door
Then I opened that book
To page 111
Making it happen
For the third time today.

I took my baby with me
With my best friend
By my side
Pulling at my hair
And I went to a room
To put them down
I left both of them there,
Turned back and grabbed the book
Which was in a bag,
Walked past a room
With one of the most
Important people
In my life sitting at a desk,
And walked down the hall.
I locked the door again,
Opened to page 111
And it happened for
The fourth time.

Fifth will be when
I escape from this car.
Sixth will be
Before I shower.
And there won't be a
Seventh.
Not until it
Is the ninth.
At 12:10.
And I start
All over again.

I don't want to start something again...
Because I may end up losing you...
It's been a blissful few weeks...
Of us just being together...
It felt good and I'm waiting on it to end...
And maybe my demons will be the one...
To do it for us...
Because you are right...
All we do is lie to each other...
And I've run out of ink to tell you why...
Maybe one day I will be over...
This sickness that no one needs...
To know of...
And maybe one day...
He won't hurt you like he does...
Or you won't be there for him to...
And one day...
This will be accepted...
And I won't have to prove...
To you that I am not ashamed...
To kiss you in a crowded hallway...
I live for one days...
I'm scared neither of ours...
Will be coming...
Anytime soon...

Who is to say that music doesn't have power
Because I just went through
Every.
Single.
Song.
On this list and I'm somewhere between
Happy,
Confused,
Concerned,
And
Triggered.

There are pieces of writing out in the world
That say that you should start starving yourself
Or you should start working hard
To hate your "fat" body, by everyone else's definition.
I've read these types of inspirational pieces.
They make me want to stop eating
And they make me want to purge
And they make me hate my body like I always have.
They say that day one, this won't be a battle.
I will be skinny and beautiful and gloriously...
Bony, emaciated, hungry, angry, lonely, cold...
But pretty.
"Day one starts today" they say.
"Imagine day 30, when all the boys whistle.
Day 52 of people asking if you lost weight
Day 69 of being someone else thinspo
Day 100 of being gorgeous."
I've never wanted to be skinny.
At one point, I wanted to starve and
Be just like that,
But I came to the point where I decided
I was sad enough without another disease
On my stomach and in my head.
There are too many scars on my body
And I've tried so hard to stop
Putting more on my skin bag,
But I find it hard, so I turn to these
Pro-eating disorder inspirational pieces.
And I change the words.

Day one starts today.
Imagine day 10 and not breaking
Even though you really want to.
Imagine day 21 when you reach
Six months with that special girl
And you are still clean.
Imagine day 30 when you can tell
Her that you are a month clean again.
Imagine day 43 of smooth skin.
Imagine day 100 of smiling
Because you aren't killing yourself.
Imagine day 331 and reaching
The two year mark from when
You started and now you are done
With all of the torture.
Imagine day 365
When you can look in
The mirror and say,
"I made it a year."
Imagine day 730
When you can say,
"I made it two years."
Imagine your wedding day
When you can say,
"I made it out and I wouldn't
Be who I am
With out you."

Remember, Jess:
You. Are. Worth. Fighting. For.

HONESTLY
ALL
I
WANT
TO
DO
IS
CUT
MYSELF
TO
SHREDS
RIGHT
NOW
AND
I
DON'T
WANT
TO
BE
STRONG
ANYMORE!

I have this indescribable fear that eats me alive
That everything I do
Everything I say to my broken friends
Everything I do to try and make them smile
Everything I do to keep my grades up
Everything I do to make myself better
Everything I say to make them feel better
Everything I say to keep my demons at bay
Everything I've ever told her
About how much I love her
Everything I've ever said
Everything I've ever done
Everything I aspire to be
I fear it will
Never be good enough

That I
Will never be good
Enough.

I've had a great week
She held my hand
And my lips were
So close to hers
And I fell for her
One more time
Like I do every
Time I look at her
And every time
She says something.

I'm just waiting
To see that face again
I'm waiting to
See her cry
And to say
They are moving her
Away from me
Because we couldn't
Keep our
Hands off of
Each other.
I'm waiting for
The happiness
To end.

While quite intoxicated on another Saturday night
I saw something here never seen before
Each of us falling upon this preset line
Each of us conforming into a monotonous bore
Our minds left with nothing to explore
Personal thoughts, not one more.

As I detached myself from this wretched clique
"Wait," shouted a man, "Just one more."
I turned to see a sheep, not a thing unique
My attention he failed to keep, freedom galore
My duplicated mask fell to the floor.
A follower I was no more.

Upon breaking free, all their hatred turned to me
At first a fearful sight like a rifle's bore
Non-conformity shields me best, the mental violence never rests
The rebels you cannot best, the outcasts hold something more
We have something worth fighting for
Infinite expression our minds may pour.

She threatened him
He called her bluff
And now he's gone
It's just us again
Am I shocked?
No, because this
Always happens
After some time
With everyone
Of those men.
And I've gotten
Used to what
She does to us.

You told me that
I never gave
You any reasons
And you are right.
When you start
Giving reasons,
Someone will get
Close to you
And I can't do that
Because she always
Had to.
She gave reason
After reason
After ******* reason
And she drove
Them away.

So no,
I never give you
Reasons.
But I guess this
Is one.
Maybe you will
Never read this
And maybe
You won't give
Me the chance
To be like
My mother.

I'm starting to look like
One of those
"Is your joke still funny?"
Pictures.

I don't have anything to hide, either.
It's just that no one
Wants to ask to see what I do
On my darkest nights
And it's not that
I'd tell you no.
It's just that you never asked
To see that side of me.
And what am I to do?
I can't just pull up my sleeve
And say "here I am"
Because I wear short sleeves
And no one tends to see.
Even the ones like you,
Who know that they are there.

I imagine that your fingertips will have burnt off
By the time I try to make this better
What is the point in trying if they will never
Have the chance to singe you again but this time
With more passion than unadulterated fear?
I don't know what they feel like from hands
Other than my own
But now you have that under your belt
I'd rather be burned by the acid they let off
Than produce it of my own accord.
You exclaimed vulgarity when the acid
Made contact with your fingertips.
To whom were you fitfully angry?
Yourself who only fell in love with a girl
They constantly lingered upon?
You who stumbled upon it in
Some kind of lust and affection?
Or perhaps me?
The one who sits in bedrooms and never cries
When she produces her own form of acid.
Me, who laughs at the pain.
Who likes the color the water turns.
Who likes fresh blades.
Me, who let your fingertips touch me!
How can you be angry at yourself when
This is who I am?!

I never intended to hurt you
Acid has been pouring for a year
You're fairly new to the hatred I live
I cannot apologize enough for the idea
That I want to let more acid fall
Because I adore your lips
And I need them far too much
Please forgive me and your burnt hands
They do not mean so much harm to me
Jealousy may take them over at times.
Look at me, speaking as if I have
No control over what they do.
I do all of this to myself.

Forgive me, acid, for I want to repay
Her fingertips for your damage and
What I have done to my poor girl.
I want you to be done and finished
Gone and disposed of and never ag-

I find it funny that you think you can defeat me

I'm sorry, girlie.
My one more time will never be enough.

I need some help
I need to tell someone that I can't keep these tears from falling anymore
I need someone to know that I can't hold it in
I need to tell someone that my demons still won't let me cry
I need someone to listen
I need someone I can actually cry to
I need someone to beat back my demons.

I need the ability to call you and cry because I can't take this any longer.
And I need you to answer
Even though your phone isn't with you.
I need you to help me.
Please, dear God, help me.
I can't take this anymore.
I got blood on the bathroom walls
And it's coming through my shirt
And I'm sitting on a white bed that will be stained by the morning
Because I can't stop bleeding
And I need to cry,
But I can't.
And I need you.
I need you to know that I'm not okay
I haven't been since you met me
And I'm ready for you to know that
I'm broken in ways no one knows
And I want to let someone in
But I want it to be you
And it can't be.

I'm just shattering
And I only know how to pick up broken pieces.

I've always liked rain
But maybe,
After tonight,
I hate it.
Blood is the
Same consistency
And it flows off
My skin in the
Same manner.
So maybe I hate
Seeing rain now
Like I've been
Instructed to
Hate seeing my
Own blood.

I never liked the ocean
And I wish
They could
Understand that
But it's hard to convince
Them when I let
Myself drown
In this mess.

Tell me that you don't want me
Tell me that you think
I'm not worth all the pain
And the ******* fear
Tell me that you can do better
Than who I've always been
Tell me I'm not worth your time
Tell me I was another mistake
Tell me I was just another game
Tell me anything
To make this pain go away.

Tell yourself that you will be okay
Tell yourself that I'm a horrible person
Tell yourself that I'm just
A notch in a bedpost
Tell yourself that you won this round
Tell yourself that you won the war
That I don't want to fight anymore
Tell yourself that I don't want
Any of what you give me
Tell yourself lies until it disappears.

Tell lies to your parents
Tell lies to your friends
Tell lies to me
Tell lies to yourself
Tell lies like you were
Born to **** me off
Tell lies like you do.

It seems to work well.
I just don't want to feel
This anymore.

She didn't stop
Because I was self
Destructive.
She didn't stop
Because her hands
Had touched the
Core of my demented
Existence.
She didn't stop
Because I took a
Sharp inhale of a
Breath at the
Feeling.
She stopped because...

Maybe she should
Have unzipped my jeans
And pulled them off.
Maybe she should have
Walked me over to
A closed door and
Pushed me against a wall
Until my knees buckled
And we sank to the ground.
Maybe she should have
Slipped off my shirt
And felt me up.
Maybe I should have
Let her demons get
Farther than she wanted
Them to.

Maybe she would still
Be mine if my stomach
Hadn't had blades on it
Too many ******* times.
Maybe she would still
Hold me if I hadn't stopped
When she did.

Maybe she'd still want
Me like that if...

No...

It would still be
The same.

The taste of tic tacs on your tongue will always be too over powering. But I'd be okay with it if I still got to kiss you.

It
Took
Them
Nine
Days
To
Catch
Us.
We've
Had
Nine
Days
Without
Them
Involved.
Our love grew on hiding...
That scares me.

The last time I cried for a piece of music,
I sat second chair
And it was January
Probably my 15th birthday
No.
It was.
I wasn't so damaged
I had no scars
My hands were not bruised
And they had never felt blood
In excess amounts
And I was sad yet happy
And I didn't cry for the boy
Who broke my heart the
Year before that
No.
I cried for the music
The complete beauty of it
And my section leader,
She cried too
It was a beautiful piece of music.
Sometimes I hear it in my sleep

One year ago,
February the 28th,
To be exact,
I built up this wall
No more crying
For music, for people, for yourself
Because crying is for the weak

The last time I cried for music
Was January 14th of last year
I hadn't met her yet
She was no one
I barely even knew her mother

Today I cried
During two pieces of music
Because I was wrong
I had this lovely thing
Painted in my head
(I've never been good at art)
Of her leaning on me,
Holding my hand

I cried today for a piece of music
Because of a girl
Who broke my heart
And the same girl
Will probably fix it again
If I let her.

Today I cried for a piece of music
Because I was wrong.

There is a box of blades in the drawer above the trash cans. I know where they are. I could steal one in the middle of the night. And no one would know. I could do it. I love those blades. They make me feel powerful. Like no one can stop me. Like this is my life and I can destroy it if I want to.

You've got this way of moving
That always made me believe that you
Wanted me to learn how to dance
Because that was what was to be done.
Little girls were to take ballet
And not kiss other girls behind closed doors.
That's what you always taught me.
But, no, you never said those words.
All you said was a child's version of
"Yes, ma'am" and "No, sir."
But actions speak louder than...
...Wait for it...
Words.
At least that is what my band director taught me.
You always wanted a band kid,
Right, Mommy?

You played nice.
You showed up to my performances
You cried when I played the right notes
And I found my spot on stage
You were all you were supposed to be
Right, Mommy?

I've always had this feeling
That it was all an act
That you showed up for the cameras
And for the other parents
That's why you came to church
All those years when I was younger
Right, Mommy?

I started to doubt you when
I had to sit in the third pew by myself
After he left us again
But you were always sick
That's what you always told me
The old women who sit behind me
Don't believe that anymore
I'm too old for that now
I've lost their pity but maybe they gave it
To the little girl who...
Oh wait, no other kid sits alone
At the front of a Lutheran church.
It's always been just me.
But you were sick all the time; tired
Right, Mommy?

And you brought all of those men
Into our house
And told me not to bolt the door
When the last one left
But I was tired of being belittled
And beaten because you couldn't
STAND to be alone for a year
But I guess I'll get married four times
Like you did because you are
An excellent roll model
Right, Mommy?

I can't remember being little, Mommy.
Did you let him hurt me?
Or them
What are the chances that you were too busy
Crying your eyes out for an act
And they hurt me?
Slim to none I'm sure,
Right, Mommy?

You've always been a good actress
Maybe that's where I get it from
But you have become so good
That even you don't notice how fake
Your words have become
Especially when it comes to me and who I love
I don't know what to believe anymore
So maybe I'll just start up an act
Like my mommy did.
That seems to be the way things should be
At least that's what I've gathered
From sixteen years with you.

smile
This is better.

Right, Mommy?

If I keep focusing on all the differences,
Will I start seeing things without the fog?
If I lift the blinds from in front of my eyes,
Will I get to see you through this smog?
What if I can't do that?

If you hold onto everything that makes you cry,
Will you stop seeing all of your beauty?
If you search for something to stop the pain,
Will you be able to come back to me?
What if you don't want to do that?

If we start to listen to what they've said
Will we be able to start us again?
If we let ourselves let the other go,
Will our friends notice the change?
What if we can't handle that?

Her name is Leigh
And she sleeps inside of me
I've made up lies to tell her
To get her to fall back asleep
She has a tendency to wake up
In the middle of the night
Screaming for me to join her
She's always been afraid
Of monsters under her bed.
I've learned sick lullabies to sing
Her back into hibernation
And now they are telling me
I can't sing anymore
They are trying to rip
Out my vocal chords
And Leigh just sits there
Crying her eyes out
Because she's afraid of the dark
And my skin keeps her away
From the sun
So maybe instead of singing
I will rip open my skin
Like they want to rip out my vocal chords
So she can see the light.

The piercing sound of her cry
Is what keeps me up at night
And I'm tired of losing sleep
So maybe I will try and stop singing
To her those sick little songs
But she has to stop crying
She won't stop.

I can't get her to stop.

Please make her to stop.

I've run out of sleeping pills
And there aren't enough lights
Turned on in my bedroom
To get her to stop screaming.
She's always been afraid of the dark.

She won't stop crying.

I think she has learned that
The darkness she is afraid of
Comes from inside of me.
And the darkness that blooms inside me

Is there because I can't get any sleep.

"I figured it out long ago
The dark is nothing to be afraid of
I want you to join me
So no more sleeping and
No more singing
Just rip open your skin again
Because I want the darkness out
I want you to see what I see
It's not scary.
It's glorious.
I don't want to stop crying."
*-Sincerely, Leigh

I don't want to listen to you talk about a dead boy
His mother must be in tears
And his father staring into nothing
Trying to find the soul of the one he lost
I'm sorry for them
I truly am
I just don't want to listen to you talk about it
You have this way of talking like you knew them
Well, of course you did.
His mother cut your hair
And his dog bit your daughter
So of course you knew them all
But you could not tell me why
That boy was drinking last night
Or why he was driving too fast
You couldn't give me that
And I couldn't care less that his body is dead
But with every word that leaves your mouth
The idea of him
Keeps withering away
Because I doubt anyone truly knew him

What other reason would a 19 year old
Have for drinking and driving too fast?

I don't like how his eyes
Glaze over
When he stares at the tv
Because I know he's not really seeing
He is just looking
His mind barely processing
Monotony and a lobotomy
It kills me to watch him
Watch nothing

Because I'm scared
One day he will look
At a woman like that
With pure interest
That has been configured
And distorted by so many hours
Of waiting for a blank screen
To lighten up with
Pixilated images and fake stories
And he will see her like
He saw those images

He will see the image
Not the actor
He will see the screen
Not the wires
He will see the carcass
Not the soul

I want more for him
Than that
Than wide eyes
Drooling mouths
Empty ears
And ignoring his grandmother
When she tells him goodnight

I want more for him.

I have this overwhelming desire to call someone and talk to them until I have no more lies. And then maybe someone will understand what is going on inside my head.

Even if you have loose skin
On your lips
Or they're slightly chapped,
I'd still hold my lips on yours
And feel your breath
Go in and throughout me,
Because for that moment
Nothing would be between
You
And me
And we'd be connected
In any way we want
And maybe
I could know what it feels like
To be so beautiful
In every possible
Way.

         - J. J.

"You've got a tendency in taking all your clothes off."
"I believe in a thing called love."
"I wish my heart was always on her mind, cause she's on mine like all day all the time."
"I do not love you for the way you dress, but you do look so lovely tonight."
"I don't wanna be in love I don't wanna be in love."
"Sitting here alone, I can't help but to think, looking back on the people we used to be, why does being so free mean so far away from me?"
"I can hear them playing, I can hear the ringing of a beat up old guitar, oh ohhh, I can hear them singing, 'keep on dreaming even if it breaks your heart.'"
"Crazy girl, don't you know that I love you. And I wouldn't dream of going no where."
"I can stand here strong, cold as stone, seems so wrong, I can't explain it. Maybe it's just I've cried so much, I'm tired and I'm numb, baby I hate it."
"Hey, you're a crazy *****, but you **** so good I'm on top of it."
"Gave you a minute, when you needed an hour"
"The whole **** world is just as obsessed with who's the best dressed and who's having ***."

"I had figured out that my eyes were broken long before that. But that day I started to worry that the people in charge couldn't see either."

My lips are torn to shreds; It feels like he ***** me
And it feels like I've been abandoned to live with my sister
Do I have an eating disorder and is my best friend dead?
Am I an outcast like they told me?
Did my house burn down under their bombs?
Am I actually in rehab?
Who are all these people?
What happened last Christmas?
Am I really going insane and can I write well enough to get in a magazine?
Did my family die in a car wreck and am I a ghost?
Are people born in July more stupid than those in August?

No, I really shouldn't be allowed to read.

In Spanish class, my teacher told me to answer the question
"When you were a kid, did you tell lies?"
I answered, in Spanish,
"Yes, I lied a lot."
And the class laughed.
The teacher exasperated,
"Ohhhhh, well then."
With a smile embedded on his face.
And I smiled, too.
Because it wasn't a lie.

She told me to stop protecting her from what I do
Because she would always find out
And I guess it would be easier to hear
About it from my lips
Than in a poem or on social media
Because then,
I'm guessing here,
She could hug me.
And I could possibly let her in.
And I want to do that.
But,
When I was a little girl,
I lied a lot.
And now,
I'm not such a little girl
And lies spill from my mouth
And I really don't know why.

She almost had me in tears today
People don't do that to me
I cried when Rebecca found out
I cried in front of White
I cried when I told Kristi, both times
I cried when Ali and I talked back in June about it
I cry at the thought of Jed and Eric finding out
I cried the day after I started because of Savanna
And now she has me crying
And I can't stop and I don't want anything
To break because I can't stop being broken
But what are you supposed to do
When shards of glass keep being
Thrown like knives at what I love
I never think it will be me doing the throwing.

I've got seven years bad luck
And a broken mirror in my art box.

It's sad to think that I don't
Wince when I see his picture
I used to shatter at the thought
Of meeting his eyes
I wrote pages upon pages of
Words
That he never saw
And I don't know where
They even are at this point
And it's sad to think that I broke
His heart but then again
I never had the power
Over him to do so in the first place
It's sad to think that he's not
The same man he was back then
And I wonder if when he hugs
Me
He thinks about what he lost
But I'm sure he doesn't
That would be too hard for me
Yes, I'm still shaken up
About what he did to me
It was painful and I lost something
Then
I don't even know what to look for
Silence always seemed to hurt me
A little too much
And it seems to always find it's way
Back to me even when
I actually do love a person
And they love me
Silence always seems to find a way
To crowd into the spaces of my
Mind
And it's sad to think
That he threw away my poems.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Relapse
There was always a part of her that
Held onto what she had to let go
And there seemed to be no way to
Stop the demons from flooding her mind.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Insane
Her head liked to play games
With the way her hair fell in
Front of her eyes especially if
Someone was attempting to read her.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Destruction
What was so wrong with playing with
Matches if she was okay enough
And had steady hands that
Seemed to always write in pen?

She had to be somebody's definition of
Goodbye
Someone had once told her that hellos
Were just as useless as sorrys
But they never brought up the word
That she had a tendency to give away.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Fear
Compared to what she had become
Monsters didn't live in the back of closets
And there was nothing under her bed
But crumpled up poems and tissues.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Broken
The closest anyone has seen her to crying
In the past 5 years was that
Moment she ran away because
She didn't want to tell anyone.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Desperate
All she had wanted was to get better
All they seemed to be able to do was yell
So she closed up again with her lies
And puts the right dose in her every morning.

She had to be somebody's definition of
Something
Otherwise she didn't matter
But maybe she didn't, not to all of us
Perhaps she didn't matter because
She wouldn't let herself.