Martha

Jun 2015

Holly

I have never felt
more confused
than I do now.

being prejudged,
pressure from teachers,
expectations from parents,
insecurities from media influence
or by comparing ourselves to others.
stumbling through
day by day,
low self-esteem,
rumours,
peer pressure,
mood swings,
spots,
hormones,
not feeling good enough,
constant tiredness
and emotions that
we don't even understand
are things that we,
as teenagers,
have to face every day.

Fighting to hold it together
whilst still trying to figure out
who we are.

Self-harm? "attention seeker"
Mental illness? "get a grip"
Suicidal? "cheer up"

They can be so ignorant.

I don't think
that some people realise
how difficult it is
to grow up
in a society
like this.

#teenager

May 2015

Paul Phillip Elliott

My (eating disorder) lunchtime.

My lunchtime consists of either not eating or stuffing my face till the words "fat ***" crawl out of my friends mouth. The words sting me like a bee or a metaphor that's been overused like...being stung by a bee. Let's think about this for a minute though, think about whether or not I should feel guilty for my pleasures. I started starving myself sophomore year, the words breakfast lunch and dinner made me want to puke out the hatred I have for a body whose done nothing to me. At one point I tried to love myself, tried to show that food isn't the enemy it's just the voices in my head that tell me it is. "You should lose weight." "You're out of shape" "Fat ***", these count for each stretch mark I have on my body that crept up slowly and silently on me like a murderer to his victim. One was from my dad, two was from my friends, three was from my mom cause she said I was so handsome, four cause I don't deserve to eat, five cause I want to be pretty. Six because guys like me don't get to be pretty.
It doesn't end easily or quickly. I've gone from overweight to underweight to a healthy weight to a weight where I pull back the flabs of skin so I can count my ribs one by one again. I've even gotten to the point where if somebody tells me I look good all I can think is that they're lying. I see a difference between fat and fat, the words itself form the gelatinous image you imagine when thinking of them, sounding sour as it comes off my tongue. You don't have to be a girl to have an eating disorder, a ****** up concept that society hasn't quite grasped yet.

Feb 2015

bc

Thoughts of a Sad Teen

One
I hate myself.
Two
I'm scared to sleep at night because whenever I close my eyes it's as if the ruthless words of hatred and disgust that you throw at me relentlessly replay over and over in my head as if it was a broken record perched on the top of a dusty shelf that isn't within a reachable distance.
Three*
I don't know who I am anymore. I lost her somewhere within this sea of sadness I plunged myself into.
Four
Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless.* These are the words that taunt me everyday and latch onto me like a bloodthirsty leech that just found a new piece of flesh to feed off of.
Five
Whenever somebody tells me to be who I am and that they won't judge. I laugh. I laugh because being who I am is just a distant memory. I cant be who I am because I lost when I skipped my first meal. I lost who I was when I learned what it felt like to genuinely hate myself. I lost myself when I learned how to numb myself so that I feel nothing at all. Now here I am in present time, curled up in a ball of my own self pity, crying out all the feelings I wish I had.
Six
Somedays, I wish I could find the me that loves me, but I can't because the horrid words that you uttered to me stabbed her over and over again relentlessly and when you finally walked away, she stood there bleeding out all the love and trust she used to have.
Seven
I hate telling people how I really feel because they take it as a yearning for attention, not a cry for help. I hate telling people how I feel because they would treat me as if I was a problem and not a human.
Eight
I just wish that someone would paint on me as if I were a blank canvas and turn me into something magnificent because I am tired of continuously painting
myself in hopes that my tear-stained cheeks, lifeless eyes, and pain will turn me into the beautiful girl society expects me to be.
Nine
I just wish I was normal.

-b.c.

First poem I published on here, I hope you like it. -b.c.

Jan 2015

Maria

Smiling

No one asks you why you are smiling.
Sometimes it's just easier to smile,
By pretending
You become invisible,
You go unnoticed,
And it's easier
Than explaining what you can't put into words,
To souls who don't even care anyways.

just a thought

Jan 2015

ratgirl

Who am I?

I am me. I am the girl crying on the bathroom floor wishing she never existed. I am the boring sister, the unwanted daughter, and the distant friend. I am the bitter insults from my mothers mouth. I am the guilt from my chest when I bite back too hard. I am the music I rely on to survive. I am the dull foggy days and the long lonely nights I love so much. I am the one no one can hate and the one no one can love. I am the the broken but the not broken enough. I am the tangled collection of thoughts, weaving through one another in my mess of a mind. I am the hopeless future, I am the high expectancies. I am the too-pretty-to-be-ugly and the too-ugly-to-be-pretty. I am the 3am figure stuck to the couch. I am the weight in my chest. I am the hard mornings. I am the restless nights. I am the lost humour, the lost smiles, the lost joy. I am the lost cause.

#deep