Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
L Jul 2018
when people ask my favorite color i say yellow because it's easier to say that than to try and explain that my favorite color is the soft gradient of pale yellow into bluish purple that you can only really see at 5am in the summer
L Jun 2018
i feel like i’m made of glass
and last february,
you broke me.
i shattered.

you didn’t know
and you didn’t care
and you just. kept. pushing.

i broke into a million jagged pieces
and you
you took some of them with you.
i can’t get them back
and i’m not stupid enough to try.

you shattered me
and i was careless enough
to cut myself in the wreckage.

nothing was the same.

you broke me when i said no
and i thought
maybe
i could put myself back together
by saying yes--
again, and again, and again.
to strangers.
to friends.
to anyone who would listen,
and now all of my bridges are in flames
and i’m getting burned.

do you know what happens to burning glass?
i do.
it’s happening to me

and i’m starting to fly away in the wind,
slipping through my own fingers
like sand on the beach.
scattered so far
and so wide
that finding my way back together is like searching
for a single grain
on the ocean floor.

i'm drowning in my past
searching
for a lifeline
reaching for anything--
for anyone--
that will take me
that will tape me back together
L Jun 2018
broken souls don't mix.
you'll both walk away,
wondering--
why are some of your best pieces
headed the other direction?

broken people attract broken people
because broken people need someone
to understand their brokenness.
you can be happy
and broken--
but you can’t be broken
and together

sometimes learning to let go
is more important than fighting to stay
and sometimes no matter how hard
you try
to force things to work--
they
just
won’t

don’t let yourself be fooled
after all, if it were love--
if it were love--
he’d be here
and
at least for a moment
you wouldn’t feel so alone
L Jul 2016
when i was in seventh grade i thought i was thin
i had never looked at my body and thought it wasn't good enough or compared myself to anyone else or gave a **** about the numbers.
when i was in eighth grade a girl called me fat
it resonated with me. it bounced around in my head every second of every day and i began to look at other girls and see that i wasn't like them, i wasn't thin, i wasn't perfect, i wasn't good enough.
when i was in ninth grade i started to believe her
i hated my body every night i would lay awake and pinch my fat and cry until i fell asleep because i hated myself and everything about me
when i was in tenth grade i stopped eating
i remember the first day like it was yesterday, i took more food than the other girls and for the first time i noticed. i didn't eat like a girl and maybe not eating would make up for the years i'd spent as a whale.
when i was in eleventh grade i knew i was thin
but i didn't care. a girl saw me in the halls and told me i should be a model and all i heard was "keep starving, get better" so that's what i did and it made the hunger pains and fainting spells feel almost worth it.
when i was in twelfth grade i decided to get better
better is a nice way of saying fat (it was a mistake and that's all there is to it)
when i went to college things got good again
and by good i mean bad, at least i think i do, because i got thin and unhappy but i was unhappier before so at least i was thin again, right? no one noticed and no one cared except a university counselor who spewed a bunch of textbook ******* about loving myself until i finally quit calling her back.
now i don't know what to do
two options before me but only one in my hands and it represents the girl i will become. "you could be a model" or "you're so fat" are phrases i say to myself every day and i wish it wasn't that way but it is.
dear future me:**
are you better? or are you thin? because you know you can't ever be both.
L Jul 2016
your touch is burned into my skin and i
can't get away. you're in my dreams and
every time i close my eyes it's like you're
right back here, in my room, in my head,
in me. silence has become my best friend
and my biggest fear. i have become silent
and afraid. silence brings back every little
memory. your hair was soft and frizzy. at
first i found it endearing. that did not last
long. you were gentle through it all, and it
really confused me. how could something
so gentle be so wrong? i wasn't silent then.
you knew what i wanted, and what i didn't.
maybe if i had been silent things wouldn't
have happened. maybe if i'm silent now i
can pretend it didn't happen. maybe if no
one knows and no one cares, maybe then i
can stop knowing. stop caring. stop seeing
your face everywhere i go. stop flinching if
i ever hear your name. it feels like you stole
my voice. you're gone, but you're still here.
you'll never leave and you'll never listen to
me. i said no. you said yes. and that's what
mattered.
i don't want to feel like this anymore. i don't want to feel anything anymore.
L Mar 2016
I just feel numb all the time it's like I'm in my body but not really it's like my body is a prison slowly draining me of anything worth speaking of.
Do you ever feel like your body has betrayed you? I have. I do.
Nothing looks the way it sounds and people don't think before they speak anymore. No one cares and nothing matters.
If I go back to that place would she still be there? No.
There's a playground I think about when I want to die and I like to imagine that the happy version of me has lived at that playground ever since she left me but I know she's not there. I killed her and her absence is killing me.
Every ounce of me is stuck in my head and my chest is empty. I think too much and breathe too little and I think I'm going to die.
When the world stops making sense, start making nonsense. You'll never know what that means because I'll never tell.
Endings are harder than middles but the middles still ****.
Goodnight.
L Mar 2016
let the lights come over you
and eat your soul away
and nothing is like it used to be
and you like it that way
sometimes when he says goodbye you wish he meant it
and sometimes when he says hello you can't help but regret it
he never seems like the man he is
lies aren't always told with words
and sometimes all you want is a hug.
Next page