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Rachel Dec 2015
tactile was ivory fingertips on ivory keys,
passion was ballads of heartbreak and mornful melodies,
melancholy was cargo hanging under my eyes,
wistfullness was empty laughs and heavy sighs.

dejected was weighted arms and tarnished mirrors,
lethargic was xanax breakfast and whiskey tears,
restless was never asleep before three,
a shadow was all you seemed to have left of me.

solitude was choosing to spend my time alone,
but lonliness is now no one picks up the phone.
heartbreak is the promises i always thought you'd keep,
i'm tired, so tired, it's time for me to sleep.
Rachel Nov 2015
Oh, dearest land of Nod,
why must you tease me so?
Every night I see your gates,
but in to them I never go.

Oh, my dearest land of Nod,
they say your grass is green!
I've heard tales of your cerulean skies,
but they too, I have not seen.

Oh, the dearest land of Nod,
I yearn to eat your fruits.
My mates sashe through your fields of whey,
But I can never follow suit.

My heart aches for the terminal fate
that I should never bask in your light.
We could never be, you see,
for I am too in love with Night.
Rachel Oct 2015
I don’t want to be loud

I don’t want to be different

I don’t want people
to know my name
and look at me
when I cross the street

I don’t want to be
“the girl with the crazy hair”
or "the girl with that
tattoo on her skin"

I don’t want to be angry
I don’t want be argumentative
or always having to stand up for

I don’t want to be strong
or resilient
or righteous
or passionate
or intense
or spirited
or ostracized

It’s so tiring
and now I’m tired

I’m not so sure I want to be anything
Rachel Oct 2015
It means tired.
It means tears.
It means visits to the doctor every week
and the hospital every month.
It means medicine.
It means side effects.
It means I'm weak.
It means "My bones hurt, I can't hang out today.
I'm sorry. I'll see you next week."
It means I can never call back.

It means a fight every day.
It means weight loss.
It means weight gain.
It means I hate myself.
It means surgery.
It means scars.
It means ugly.
It means I hate myself.
It means I can never win.

It means pain.
It means worry.
It means i'll see death when I'm fourteen and
come back to earth in an ambulance.
It means trauma.
It means terror.
It means I see my dad cry.
It means flashbacks.
It means nightmares.
It means I can never sleep again.

It means fustration.
It means desolation.
It means hopelessness.
It means depression.
It means I take a bottle of Tylenol and sleeping pills because
every day is worse than the one before.
It means I throw it all up the next day.
It means I can never win.

It means days in bed.
It means no more dreaming.
It means I can never win.
It means I can never win.
"I'm sorry, I'll see you next week."
I was given a prompt by a friend of mine to write something for her zine. The topic was "what my body means to me", and this is what I wrote as a response. Enjoy.
Rachel Oct 2015
with careful consideration
of my own internal views,
I find that these shades of grey
are now my only hues.

in a life once so electric,
vivacious and bright,
the glisten has been dulled
by invariable plight.

all ends of the spectrum
have faded to black,
and I don't think that these colors
will ever come back.
Rachel Oct 2015
in the cold of the night,
I search for what's true.
I yearn for your touch,
even the memories would do.

i stick them together
with tape and with glue,
anything I can think of
to hold on to you.

but I can't run forever
in a race I won't win,
I don't recall where I started,
where did we begin?

was it your eyes or your charm
that kept me at bay?
was it my heart or my demons
that pushed you away?

I guess I'll never know
now I'm stained navy blue,
but I'll color me perfect
if I can hold on to you.
Rachel Sep 2015
It takes a special breed of fool
to touch a hot pan twice,
well I've grabbed it
about four times now,
it's just another sorely vice.

I'm playing a game with penance
and pain;  another reckless thing I do.
So add it to my
and coming back to you.
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