To sum it all up,
I don't think anyone
has been able to
understand me as well as you did -
understand me enough to know
I needed help understanding myself.
So when you left,
you left me in this trance
where I didn't know whether
to walk back or run forward.
Instead, I lit myself on fire
thinking it would be easier
to learn from scratch
than to fix broken glass.
But either way,
I came up confused with ****** hands.

gd

Here’s to the girls who have so much to give and no one to give it to.
The ones who spent their freshmen homecoming crying under a table.
The ones who take pills everyday praying it will take the pain away.

The girls who went through high school invisible
and the ones that are still trying to heal from that.
Here’s to the girls that have scars on their skin and even deeper ones on their heart.
Here’s to the tears that have become all too familiar.
Here’s to the endless nights, ragged breathing, and bloodshot eyes.

Here’s to the girls who know pain,
who have been through it all yet still choose to have a soft heart.
The girls that still chose to fill their lungs with air.

Here’s to the girls who haven’t given up.
The girls who have hope that burns in their souls and shines in even the darkest of nights.

Here’s to you. Here’s to me.

I don't want to wake up
At 4am anymore
To check my phone
Hoping for the message from you
I know will never come

It's hard to explain
how this heart feels.
Like laughter lost in echo
and your warm touch
now long gone cold.

Anxious, breathless;
something lost I need
so desperately found.

Empty perhaps.
Abandoned like houses,
broken like silence.

These hands can't reach as far
as where you lay.
Somehow I feel like I burn at both ends;
the flames now reaching their meeting place.

But it's always better to burn out
than to fade away.

Like a spider on *******
I weave dysfunction
in   a      haphazard    way
My web has huge              gaping                         holes
It continues to u
                         n
                      r
                         a
                      v
                        e
                      l
                       
Stops short of beautiful
I begin one segment
then d
         r
         o
         p it to start piecing together another
My web lacks intricate details
that would make it magnificant to others
My web cannot function naturally
the way instinct intended
The holes in my web
cause opportunities to fly right by and through
leaving me hungry, confused and reliant on you
This web is a silky mess
So I'll just leave it be
to end up
on someone's eyelash
as they acquiesce.
Like a spider on *******
I         weave    dysfunction
        in  a     hap-haz-ard      
                                                                ­    way.

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.

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's very few people I've let into my heart,
And I guess now is no better time to start.
Start re-building my walls, start digging the trenches,
Start sealing the cracks from exit to entrance.
Start building my guards, place them around my beating castle,
Start restraining my feelings so my heart has no hassle.
Start pushing people away, start loosing my hope,
Start tying together the ends of the rope.
Start loosing my mind, start loosing my soul,
Maybe once I do I won't be the fool.