Dad,
What do I do?
You can't be proud of me
for sleeping with a man
who acts like a boy and
doesn't treat me like I am
perfect even though I'm not.
I mean, down here on earth, we are definitely
not angels even though I know you
would treat me like one.
We are human.
We cannot love perfectly,
but aren't we supposed to try?
I know you would tell me that he is the one
who is missing out.
And it’s quiet, but I can hear you say, everything will be better than okay someday,
but it's just not the same.
But I am human. I am selfish.
He calls my name
and I run back to him.
You can't be happy with me
for feeling like I need someone
who doesn't cherish my soul.
I wish you were here.
I wish my questions turned into answers, but it's not that easy.
It's not that easy without you here,
Dad.

Twisting with the devil in another day of hard earned peace,
Packing thoughts in little boxes counting down till when it'll cease,
Logic out the window as a war can breed a peaceful end,
And fighting with the devil is a dance with the right tools to spend,
Shaking of the shackles that hold down my insecurity,
Sharpening the vision of the world that's right in front of me,
Reminds me that my mind is mine and inaccessible to others,
Feeling foolish for ever feeling special a heartache that I smother

in some way,
we're all broken.

begging for comfort
and some medication
to relieve us of the pain.

we've all been shattered
into a million pieces
and felt like nothing.

we're all broken,
after all.

What am I?

Well…
I can tell you what I’m not.

I’m not popular
I’m not funny
Nobody likes me

I’m not cool
I’m clumsy
I’m huge…

I’m fat
Not skinny
I drown myself in food

It tastes so good
When people’s words taste so bad

What else can I do?
It’s my only comfort
It’s my only friend
I shovel
    Shovel
       Shovel
The tasty sugary, salty, buttery goodness into my mouth
It’s my safe place

Until

My delicious heaven turns into a guilty hell
I realize my error
The food is the cause
It adds on to my suffering
People are starting to notice

So what do I do?

I eliminate it completely
I ignore my needs
I deny my suffering

Why?

Because someone actually called me beautiful
So I keep going

Trips to the doctor grow in size
They have my cure
It will surely be my downfall
I’ll return to where I was before
I ignore their words

Why?

To keep my crisp jawline
My flat stomach
My skinny legs
My stick arms
Because this is beautiful

I keep going

I walk miles on end
My crackling lips are thirsty
However my mind is thirstier
To get that beach body
But I can’t do that
If I don’t put anything in

You can see my bones
My hair is brittle
I can’t breathe
I’m absent from school
I’m dying…

But I can’t see it
I don't want to see it
This... is beautiful
I’m glowing
But I can no longer look in the mirror
I’m still not good enough
I have to be perfect

I keep going

Until I can't anymore
I can't get out of bed
I can only carry one binder in my backpack
I have to stop
I need to stop
But it's impossible on my own

I get help

And here I am
Telling my story

People love me
People care
Those who don't, don't matter
I have style
I’m talented
I'm beautiful on my own
Without my poison

I hope when they tell you I'm pretty
you tell them about my kindness,
about how I donated my birthday money when I was ten
and refuse to listen to anyone's negative self-talk.

I hope when they tell you I'm pretty
you tell them about my passion,
about how I put my entire heart into everything I do
and my eyes light up when talking about something I love.

I hope when they tell you I'm pretty
you tell them about my intelligence,
about how I could discuss neurological models all day
and see each academic challenge as a puzzle to be solved.

I hope when they tell you I'm pretty
you tell them how perfect we are for each other,
about how we both think that morning is when you wake up, regardless of time,
and fully accept each other for who we are.

I hope when they tell you I'm pretty
you tell them, "Oh, but she is so much more."