DEAR ******* GOD I GIVE EVERY CELL IN MY BODY INTO RECOVERY AND IT ******* ***** WHEN AS SOON AS I ******* LEARN TO BREATHE AND BE OKAY AGAIN ONE SOUL CAN CRUSH EVERY BEING AND OUNCE OF MOTIVATION I HAVE AND  I CANT SEE THROUGH THESE CLOUDY EYES AND I CAN BARLEY BREATHE ANYMORE AND WHEN THE SCARS ON YOUR BODY SCREAM YOUR NAME AT NIGHT IT GETS HARD TO HEAR THE WORLD AROUND YOU, MAYBE I’M THIS WAY BECAUSE I CAN’T SEEM TO SHAKE OFF THE FEELING THAT I AM SO ******* ALONE AND OH GOD SOMETIMES THAT FEELING COMES BACK THAT I FELT THAT FIRST NIGHT AND I’M TERRIFIED BECAUSE WHAT IF IT GETS BAD AGAIN AND WHAT IF ONE NIGHT I CAN’T CONTROL WHOEVER THE **** TOOK OVER MY HOLLOW CORPSE AND WHAT IF THEY HURT ME AGAIN; PLEASE COME HOME AND TELL ME I’M NOT AS CRAZY AS THESE SCREAMING ECHOS IN MY HEAD CONVINCE ME TO BE.

and in the luminescence of the morning
the sun’s rays traversed across my fragile frame
revealing the sparse white lines dwindling away
plastered over my thighs, hipbones and my wrists
however I now have the consent to accept such disfigurements,
each holding a distinctive tale of how it came about.
i untangled myself from the white linen
and in the most undiluted form of myself,
i finally had the consciousness
i was no longer timorous of life itself,
it is truly time to experience vitality
-r.s

i spent four years of talk therapy and pills and guidance trips and hurting myself  to learn happiness is a choice and maybe i spent too much time being sad to realize the world around me; you hurt me so i hurt myself and the scars have faded but you have not; i’ve been scared to tell the majority of my friends about my problems because i’m afraid they’ll leave and see me as just another burden; i’m finally starting to feel okay and maybe the earth isn’t as scary as i made it out to be; sometimes i wake up and the sun shines on my fragile body and i’m happy to be alive; though sometimes i get really bad and i feel so alone and i forget all the coping devices i have learned; i know i’m going to be okay; i have so many supportive people in my life; i’m not completely okay again but maybe i will be soon; i cant get bad again i cant get bad again i wont get bad again i cant i ******* can’t;

with each kiss you planted on my ribs
i felt a sprout take root,
and at once my chest was filled with blossoms
that made me cough like soot.
they were darling bells that made me hack
whenever your shadow appeared,
so I plucked each petal plaintively,
though he loves me not, I feared,
its been a spell since we have wilted, and
i’ve pressed you deep inside,
hoping still to preserve your youthful bloom
after all your leaves have dried
-r.s