i remember the fall
the wheezing hair-raising scream that pierced the air that followed
it was as if my lungs wanted to let the universe know i was about to embark on a trip down to the underworld but settled on a post to social media instead
“the person you are trying to reach is not available right now. they do not know when they’ll be back. but for now, leave a message with your name and contact info at the beep.”
i changed my profile pictures to an ambiguous shadow, shut down my feeds, and disappeared

i didn’t wake up in time
pulled the covers over my head and pretended i was dead
asleep

most nights while i was under, i dreamed vivid dreams that the diabolical freaks that ruthlessly engulfed me had disappeared like i
sometimes still do

most mirrors i looked into were as broken as i was
shards splintered off like the decaying pieces of my emaciated body
my heart was indignant and my brain would have argued back if it had had enough fuel to do so
i remember the charts and the scales the morning weigh ins the
pokingthepokingthepokingthepokingthepokingthepokingthepokingt­hepokingthepokingthepoking
the food diaries the room searches the itchy gowns the smells the eyes the eyes the eyes the envy the eyes
everywhere

i remember fall used to be my favorite season
.

my internal therapist is telling me to not write this poem
to not dwell on damaged thoughts, there's no fixing them, dear.
so maybe not.
maybe i'm not writing this poem to try to fix my broken thoughts
maybe i just want peace maybe i am hurting and writing this poem is the only way i know how to wade through the swamp of pain you've thrown me in
two years ago this week, i was getting ready to see my sister marry her best friend
i was bright eyed, had a mane of hair i couldn't tame, excited about life
i was joking with some new friends i'd made about one of them crashing the wedding
i was about to meet Anxiety for the first time
now here i am, shorter hair, sitting with my laptop perched upon sweatpant clad, starved, legs, my fingers not moving fast enough over the keys, i'm tired.
Anxiety and I have taken our relationship to the next level and he visits me often, particularly at night when I'm thinking about you
Anxiety gets jealous, punishes me, forces me to think about your words while suffocating me
i'm tired
i'm afraid that lies about me still flood your mind and i can't change that
i want to talk to you, have a conversation, ask you why
i've apologised and still i will say i am sorry because i am
why do you loathe me so much
i've had people tell me to get over myself, over you, over the situation and i'm trying
but i've never had someone do what you did to me and i'm hurting still this pain i wonder, did you intentionally do it to bring me down?
you've must've known what with my history of attention seeking self harming downward spiral
i never did it for attention
i've taken to numbing myself, last night i dug around my art supplies box for the set of extra blades my sister in law gave me for my pencil sharpener for christmas
i'm not sharpening anything, there isn't anything to sharpen
my friend tells me not to do it, that it doesn't do me any good long term
because that's what i'm dealing with right? long term pain?
sleepless nights and anxiety attacks
sadness i can't escape from
saying no when my niece asks me to play sorry willow i'm tired i'm so tired
so maybe my blades won't bring me long term salvation
maybe two years in therapy won't help but that's okay i was in there anyway for the big mess of my life that you told me to get over
maybe i don't care and am going to treat my thighs as cutting boards because temporary sanity is sanity and i've lost my head as it is
my therapist on wednesday will tell me to forget you
and i will try
and i will fail
i don't know why i'm writing this poem
i'm a crazy believer in better things
how this poem will make things better is beyond me but hey
sue me for trying to see hope in the little things
how artless of me
the artist in me, pain(ting)
-
-z.z

I am my parents’ worst nightmare and a blessing in disguise. My father says I am exercise for his mind. I love verbal defense. I love creating backstories and plucking reasoning out of thin air like a magician who pulls rabbits out of his hat. Verbal defense is an art, you see. It consists of passionate testimonials, backed by evidence, and so many ******* loopholes. I have mastered this art down to a T.

I ask that you imagine me complexly. I hate that you think you know me based off of a few things you’ve seen. No two people ever view the same thing. I believe you don’t know me. You can pinpoint a couple of my likes, my dislikes, but you don’t know the songs I sing when I’m alone. They’re not all sad, you know. But sometimes they are. You don’t know why or what or how. You don’t know that my favorite things are too far away from my grasp and they’re always so ******* hard to find yet I keep looking.

Imagine me complexly and maybe you’ll see something new. I know what it’s like to look at the world through scratched lenses. I know that after a while, you get a headache from trying to overcorrect what you’re seeing. So take the ******* scratched rose tinted glasses off. **** will be blurry but at least it’ll be as raw as you can stand, take a look, see here this is my being.

People used to tell me I should be a lawyer but that would take the joy out of arguing. Me? I want to fix broken things. I’m attracted to brokenness like a moth is to the buzz of a dying fluorescent streetlight. Isn’t that funny? I find it hilarious, that I think I can fix, heal and soothe the wounds of a broken world. I must be truly crazy if I think I can patch up some of the world’s lacerations. Maybe one day, when you imagine me complexly, we can talk about it. I’ll try my damnedest to not to try and fix you, because I’d be a flaming liar if I didn’t think you weren’t broken. So imagine me complexly. I'll wait, don't worry. Take all the time you need. Imagine me complexly.

Imagine me complexly.

-z.z

i didn't mourn your death
i didn't cry, didn't scream
didn't **** the world or any god for taking you away

and then i remember
english class, we all had to memorize Atticus's speech
you know, the one in the courtroom where he defended Tom Robinson

and then i remember
that you sang about leaving us before any of us knew you were gone
ziggy stardust, i miss you

and then i remember
i'm 7, maybe 8 years old
you taught me what imagination meant, what i could do, what alternate universes i could create

and then i remember
you loved so much you died with a secret
as i grew, i learned how to understand you

and then i remember
the day purple rain meant a nation mourning in unity

and then i remember
your song was in shrek and i'm sorry but that association from my childhood never left me

and then i remember
the amount of pain you endured

and then i remember
i was 11, my brother was singing along to hotel california, introduced me to your band and pointed you out to me
"that's glenn frey he's the guitarist"

and then i remember
why this year has been such a dark one
so much of the light has vanished with you

and then i remember

i never gave myself a chance to mourn your death

-z.z

I don’t want to write this poem
because I’m afraid of misinterpretation
but I’ve been feeling out of sorts lately I’m willing to risk that humiliation
if it means I’ll get some feeling of peace or
something
i’m i I guess just i mean gr no i mean oh can we just not talk for a moment?
My throat closes up, my tongue goes dry
I’m sorry I can’t I
am too tired to try
My mind is a canvas and I’ve only got black paint on hand and no clean paintbrushes available
like i’ve used all the colours that there’s no new ones to mix
there’s no more room
no new space
just
painting over it is too much work ******
I’m sorry
-z.z

There's this thing called the heart
It is an ***** vital for existence
It's a mass of muscle
It's the powerhouse of the body
It's not that pretty but
Existence was never pretty
-
We associate the heart with love
and symmetrically contoured shapes cut from red construction paper with safety scissors
We romanticize what love should be
Love flows from my heart to yours oh darling you're beautiful let me love you
-
From do you like me check yes or no to
Let me love you because I think you're wonderful
Let me show you all of the ways you are perfect
The way you don't stop being, like your heart that never stops beating
-
Science tells me that love is a series of chemical reactions firing off in my brain--
Endorphins that are being released every time I smile at you, they tell me the heart does not anatomically correlate to the sensation of what love feels like
-
Life tells me sometimes, Science doesn't know what it means to experience love outside of chemical reactions
Love feels like the rush of heartbeats palpitating faster and faster, like my ribcage is a house for one million butterflies trying to break free
Love feels like a moment frozen in time, the space time continuum doesn't exist here
We are operating on a different universe, and this one knows love exists in all forms, in every moment, in each sideways glance and "I think I like you"
-
Life tells me that the reason we associate an ***** vital to our survival to a feeling so intense
Is so that we won't forget that sometimes the very act of existence is to love
-
Te amo
I love you
La amo
I love him
Los amo
I love myself
Me amo
-
-z.z