anxiety crawling around my skin
head full of empty thoughts
nails in torn and scarred skin

talking to my therapist
fourty-five minutes of talking
feeling self conscious

tired of going to working
tired of going to therapy

tired of messing up
tired of falling down

tired of waking up
tired of existing

brown eyes are my favorite
they are spiraling and layered
years of depth and emotion

he has brown eyes
they are full of life
and a purpose

when he stares at me with those eyes
i feel so loved by him
and i feel touched by him

i want to be enveloped by him
held forever
safe.

i love your eyes marcus.

our meeting was designed by fate

randomly matched but already together

twenty-two and eighteen

the perfect duo

19 and still
hating myself
over the actions
of other people

feeling stupid
for failing
the person
i love the most

you asked me to be mean
but i couldn't do it

you asked me to be upset
but i could only be disappointed

you asked me to do this
and i'm trying to help you

but i still find a way to **** up
and feel so wrong about it

i'm just being mean
but i'm trying to help

i tend to overthink everything

like why do we talk differently then before, yet feel the same?
or can i ever become bothersome enough that some
***** can swoop in and take you away?
eventually i'll grow out of all of this

you're the best thing to have happened to me and i expect
open arms when we meet up
unless you'll decide on a kiss

<3

9 hours distance
11 months relationship
2 people in love

everyday i find something new
to love about you

i love you so much i'm going to make you hate me.

if you hate me, you'll find someone who makes you happy.

i don't want you to hate me, but
i want you to be happy.

i tear at my skin, rip the flesh off the bone
layers and layers peel away
i reveal my core, it's broken and confusing
black bones and stars and weeds stuck between
everything looks thrown together
nothing belongs here

my lips burn and sting; for i only long to kiss you

i'm in love with the dying.

every time i go back to that place
i remember calling you
and telling you how excited i was
but also how scared i was

you told me it was okay

i remember my friends talking to you
and they were laughing
and i had a huge smile on my face

you wanted to hang up

i told you that i had to go
and i reminded you i loved you
i held the phone to my ear

i don't remember you saying you loved me back

you stay muted and i do the talking
it's a different feeling for me
but i enjoy it because you turn on your camera
i love watching you smile when i'm talking
you remind me what it feels like to have a
stranger love me, and just me.

i'm watching you sleep right now
and i'm wondering if he ever thought
the same things i'm thinking
when i fell asleep on him
did you stay because you cared?

i still miss you
every day
every night

i don't get to sleep with anyone who is there in the morning

i don't have someone who talks to me the way you did

i miss you

i miss us

i feel sad
with out you

but i'd feel sad
making you stay
with me

if my eyes aren't looking at a screen, they are leaking.

every time i eat something in a box
i look at the calories and feel like i'm nauseous

every time i drink something in a can
i look at the calories and feel like i'm saturated

every time i eat, i'm afraid i'm eating too much
my head begins to spin and i feel sick to my stomach

i'm afraid of over eating, i'm afraid of making the mistake
giving people another reason to dislike me

i worked up the courage to send you the first message
we talked for hours that night
i laughed and you had smiled
we both seemed happy when we were together
i fell asleep on you because you told me it would be alright
i woke up to you gone, even though i asked you to stay

appears like a brute

is as frail as a flower

when you are told you are worthless

over and over again

you begin to believe you are worthless

and you try to make everyone else

also believe you are worthless

i always wanted to graduate and leave the hellhole of high school
i always expected that when i was graduating that i would receive a scholarship from some state college
i always imagined i'd fall in love with someone between high school and college and that would be the love of my life

i wish i could have left high school when i knew what i wanted to do with my life
no colleges want me & no one was there to fall in love with me

if i stayed in high school until i knew what i wanted to do, i think i would be in high school until i passed on.

the future is broad,
he said

but is it broad enough for you to love me again?
she thought

i want to be yours, and only yours time & time again.

i can never do enough harm to myself

to make up for the amount of harm i did to you

i figured you didn't love me anymore.

i assumed it didn't hurt.

i believed being hurt and loving them went hand in hand.

i love you so much still, that it hurts to think of being without you.

i thought you didn't love me, so you were glad when you were without me.

i fell in love with you.

i broke my own heart.

i'm sorry.

talk to me so i stop talking to myself.
the words rattle back and forth in my mind that i dont need you to reply, i already thought up your next three responses, one being silence.

i miss you.

end of my elementary school years i had a diary.
a boy i had a crush on broke my heart and i wrote in my diary on a page somewhere in between the middle and the end about how i was
                 emo.
about how i wanted to cut my wrists and be sad all the time.

my parents found this diary and found this page and questioned me until i said it was all a lie and i didn't even know what emo really was.

i keep a diary online now, and i occasionally cut myself, and i wonder if my parents ever think i'm emo.

would i be able to lie and tell them i don't know what emo is? or would they look at the scars and wonder when i really found out what being emo was.

i wish i was like you,
outgoing and sociable.

what is it like talking to someone
just because you feel like it?

how does it feel to send a message
and not feel the chat box closing in on you?

i wish the compliments didn't seem like
covered up insults that stab right through me.

i wish i could talk to you without
having to apologize.

it's hard hitting enter, and whenever i do,
it's even more difficult not to delete it.

i want to go back and remove it all,
never notify you of my need for attention.

i just wanted to talk to you,
so i could seem like you.

i'm still not asleep,
and neither are you.

you're thinking about her,
and i'm thinking about me.

you're so loving, yet
i'm so selfish, i want your love.

please call me,
please talk to me.

stay with me until i sleep,
then you can go

go back to her,
and i'll go back to me.

if i were you

i wouldn't love me

neither

right side of bed
top drawer
tiny blade
blood stained

right of drawer
vertical cabinet
cigarettes
and a lighter

here's to forgetting you

blowing breeze pushes this
introvert slightly out of her
round and obnoxious shell of
toxic self
hate so that i can receive praise that i
deserved, even though all i did was
age one more
year

:-)

dissociating from life

melting into my sheet less bed

feel the pressure of every homework assignment i never turned in, every excuse i made to avoid hanging out, every person's feelings i ever disregarded

but also feel absolutely nothing



hearing all the beats of the song, every lyric feels like the writer wrote them just to connect to you

but also having the sound drown out and everything goes deafening quiet


i'm tired of existing
of simply living

breathing is hard to do.

suffocating is lovely,
the carbon dioxide is bottled inside my lungs and bounces rapidly

it makes me feel so alive

drowning is extraordinary,
the water floods the empty parts of me and makes me whole again

it makes me feel so normal

cutting is splendid,
the poison is finally leaving my blood stream and i'm healthy

it makes me feel in control

the problems make me different but they make me feel so normal

he had loved the color orange
passionate orange,
relaxed but caring
deeply

she loved him
as much as he loved
the orange hue in the sunset
vibrantly

he loves her
passionately
caring,
but not relaxing

they clash and orange
is no where in sight
red, violet, blue, green
they splash on their bodies

and other times
they are no other color than
orange and it's siblings
mellow and together

she wishes for them to be
orange, but sometimes he
becomes red and she is
every shade of the end of the rainbow

she becomes violet, then indigo
she transitions to blue
she darkens to the deepest shade
she is only blue, darker than black

he is red, extreme red
he is full of passion
he is fiery and about to explode
he is so bright that he illuminates the whole world

she wishes they could become orange again
and she believes he does too, but
something had happened and they were
only the siblings, no orange around

Usually I enjoy talking about my completely
Not worth listening to feelings but
Undoubtedly people have lost interest
Such as a girl who
Used to vent to me like I vented to her but
After I vented too much she had
Left me behind and found new friends.

i have not touched your skin and you have not touched mine,
i haven't felt your warm breath on my skin, on my lips, and you have not felt mine,
i do not know what you smell like, except for the bunny plushie you shipped to me, and you still have yet to smell my fragrance.

i love you though, and you love me. i love you more than i have ever found myself to love someone, and we have dated, yet this love i have for you, can not be bounded by the love someone feels for their significant other,
you are not my girlfriend
you are not my best friend
you are not my wife
you are not my soulmate.

you are my everything, you are the reason i continue breathing, you are the sounds when everything goes silent, you are the pleasant cozy scents when everything is rancid, you are the glimmering sparkle in a sea of darkness.

i am glad that in all the alternate universes there are, i am living the one where i met you and we are closer than a married couple, than twin sisters, than a mother and daughter. we are closer than the human vocabulary can explain.

i could go on for hours about how much you have impacted my life and how i'm so satisfied with you being in it.

and sometimes i still get sad when i think about how there are alternate universes where i don't meet you, or i don't become friends with you, or i even hate you. but those universes are ******* out by this one, and the other ones where we are close, ones where we are still dating, ones where we live right next to each other.

you are the most important person in the world to me, and we have a love that is so much stronger than anything i've ever felt before, ever seen before, or ever even read described before.

i.
love.
you.

you see the entire milky way when you look at me,
a complete master piece, the best exhibit at the show.
you hear a symphony, the top musicians in the world.

i've noticed your stars, the sparkles that appear,
i believe you're an oil painting, took large amounts of skill.
i hear the quietest place on Earth with you.

but i will never love you, as much as you love me, and i'm truly sorry for that.

you've overstayed your welcome, you've extended the deadline to a date i don't see myself living to, you've stopped paying rent.

you're a nuisance.

you lied to me, betrayed me, hurt me, and expected me to remain the loyal little sidekick.

you're the villain.

when i finally stood up for myself, you shot me down, ordered my execution center stage.

you're the devil.

when we kiss, it's filthy
exchanging sensual spit
mine tasting of strong alcohol, hints of strawberry
your reminds me of cigarettes, addictive like nicotine
together we are a walking mess
addicted to abusive subtances
addicted to each other

i don't scratch my skin when it's dry to try to tear the surface to cause myself to bleed
i don't have nightmares where your hand touches mine and you're instantly disgusted
i don't scream all the lyrics to songs that make me cry because I relate too strongly
i don't write poetry because i can't find myself expressing my words
i don't scramble my sentences up so i can hide my anxiousness
i don't avoid eating because i'm afraid of weight
i don't do my homework because i've lost motivation

and i avoid admitting the truth.

Barnaby hands me my daily
  cup of coffee, but this time, it's night
  time, and the coffee reminds me of the war
  but not the allies annihilating the Germans or Japanese
  but the war between me and him every time
  he confesses his love to me, the words pierce
  through my heart
  I will never love him as much as he loves
                                        me, I'm disgusting
  like the taste of the coffee
                                        just beans in water.

we have that kind of love
but i never thought about it as love

we spend countless hours together, jokingly insulting each other, pushing each others buttons, talking about the reason of living, revealing sinful kinks, our favorite thing about this expanding universe we look up at, how all the stars are dead when we see them, and wonder if people will find us beautiful if when we are already dead.
we talk about the boys at school, and the young men in our friend groups how they are so corny and cute, but have that cute boyish handsome charm to them, each and every one of them, and sometimes we joke about dating them, but it's really scary if you imagine it.
i find myself in you and i wish i could be more like you, while you find yourself in me, and you aspire to be more like me, yet we are never happy being ourselves but being each other, and being each others.

and i think that's why it's love.
that kind of love.

my mind is like a keyboard
too many options and full of secrets

if you press the right simple combination of keys, i'll speak a phrase

if you type the correct complex code, a beautiful noise emits
                               incorrectly though, i scream in agony

sometimes my keys pop right off, but you can always put them back on easily. i forget about the whole incident even occuring

other times, my keys just get stuck because you spilled something bad there, and the memories get stuck there, and they won't go away no matter how much we try

you could always get a new keyboard or
                                get a new girl, like you always do.

i just wanted to be in your arms tonight
but i wasn't
and i never will be

because we are miles on miles apart
and even
further apart physically

its the time of year
where when i pass off
my mask to another me
it is not questioned
i can push myself deep
into the concoction of
the new year's drink
forget myself
but create a new me,
approachable and talkative
a real catch
the girl i wish i could be

then after the ball hits the floor
polluting the party
exciting the people
the new 365 days arrive
i'll be me again
until next year

my back hurts and has been hurting
for a really long time now

it's not just an ache when i bend over
or when i stand too long

it's constant, reminding me its always
present with its constant throbbing

each disk of my spinal cord feels like
its carrying all my weight on it

but i think they are carrying much more
than my own body on them

my bones are carrying you
but it's not actually you

it's the old you
the memories of you

a genuinely happy you
the one i met back then

the one i began to fell in love with
but you seemed so distant

even though you spent every waking
moment with me, and only me

we were distant, and then you told me
you loved me, and wished i felt the same

flustered i told you i loved you,
i had from the start

we dated for less than a week
but i carry you in my body

every loving memory of you
of past you

in between my bones you sit,
closer to me than you are now

and sometimes i still think that
i love you, but i don't want to.

elementary school was a blur
until in 5th grade two boys
i knew were at my father's work,
ordering subway sandwiches talking
about the red headed girl who had
a muffin top. utterly disgusting.

i had not known what a muffin top
exactly was, until my best friend's
mother explained it and then nodded
in agreement, "i can see the muffin
top-ness to you. i can get you a diet"

in 6th grade, i lost my best friend to
girls who did not have muffin tops
and were not on diet plans, just girls
who existed and played the role of
a child attending middle school

7th and 8th grade was a jumbled
disarray of 730 days filled with
self hatred and self harm,
remembering my best friend
and the muffin top comment

high school! a fresh start, a brand
new adventure. i will find the kids
who know what a muffin top is,
and i'll accept their comment
and hide my low calorie meals

self harm followed with his best friend
self hatred and depression and
being anxious to eat in the cafeteria
so i didn't eat all of freshman year,
i sat in the hallway during lunch

sophomore and junior year i snagged
occasional apples and spare chicken nuggets
from my friends trays, but i never got
a lunch meal myself, even though my
family qualified for free lunch.

but senior year, i am changing.
for the better i believe.
i eat almost 3 times a week, actual meals
pb&j mostly, but it's a meal
the other two days i eat rolls, delicious rolls

i've decided that i am me, and i could have
changed it sooner, but i think i am glad
i hadn't for it made me, me.
the red headed girl with a muffin top
who loves feeding herself, and feeling
full instead of empty.

sometimes i still hate my weight, but
it's my weight, and i have to carry it
i should carry it with joy for my body
is not a chore, or dead weight.
my body is my vessel, and i love it.

i cried for a good two weeks
after the main incident
i had told you i was sad
but i never told you what else
i had let happen

i stopped eating and
i stopped trying to breathe

but

the body won't let you stop
breathing, your body knows
you are a holy temple,
made to love but also to
be loved.

i was made to love you.
but i was also made to be loved.