I flicker
between reassuring myself
and planning my funeral

I am violent
I would scratch your eyes
out with spoons
but they're perfection

you belong in formaldehyde
it will preserve you
the seraph who injected
bleach in my veins

but I am queen of the masochists.

I wish you wouldn't say things like,
"It must be nice, being naturally skinny."
I can hear it in your voice, your envious of this body of mine.
But even though I know better,  I respond along these lines,
"Oh thanks. I'm just lucky I guess."
But that's so much more than just a white lie.
If you only knew how much I wanted to die...
With every bite of food consumed.
If only you knew, not to assume.
You can have this dying body of mine,
Because I'd trade it anytime.
You can discover how it feels, this need to be skinny,
And you can have my mother, who will always complain that you're not pretty.
And then you would understand how it feels,
When people say things like,
"It must be nice, being naturally skinny."

Early in the morning
You prepare to face the world
Like the mall
Or school
Or the mall
You face the mirror,
Just a piece of glass
With a dark background
You’ve deified
Ooh! You need eye make-up
You reach for your eyeliner
Max Factor’s finest
And open your eyes
Forcibly
Like some deer caught in the
Stage lights
Now, you begin to line your eyes with a swipe
A million children’s stomachs growling for zilch
Swipe
Mosquito-infested mothers digging for lunch at Payatas
Swipe
Cuts on a little knee from scrap metal
Swipe
Oh look! You’re tearing up
Liquid fake crystal
Forming on the dusty window to your soul
Feel it form in the corner of your eye
Feel it drip like cloud-seed rain
Feel it streak your powdered, masked face
Oh wait! You can’t feel it
You’ve gone numb
But those tears fall and fall
Perfect! Just the way you wanted

A glass in my hand and a cheer on my lips
Of a triumphant song to sailing ships.
Before long, I see no more,
And my stumbling body hits the floor.

I am so damaged
So fragile.
My head is spinning
all the while
It is breaking
Slowly cracking
What is it making?
It is so heavy.
So fragile.
I wonder if it will last awhile.
Before the cracks become craters
And the skull becomes
Merely nothing but faded.

origionallity spfigionallity
complicated mess
to come up with something new
and so unlike the rest
it may be so
or seem impossible
even when giving your best
but perhaps like me
today you'll see
i write this all in jest