ever so lightly he lays a finger on my lips and tells me to stay quiet. he tells me that his body pressed on top of mine is what God would have wanted, he tells me that my little girl face is so sweet like a scoop of vanilla ice cream, I have no flaws yet, but he had a spoon.
'no' can't resonate from my lungs when I barely know my left and rights and my ups and downs.
lying down in an office, the therapist gives me a stress ball that has the world painted on it. our snacks are light but the subjects are not, I tune out the sessions but I hear a question out of the blur, "do you remember what he did?" I squeezed the voodoo stress ball so tightly my world starts spinning, -I reply- he taught me to keep my silver wear drawers SHUT. I'm five years old again and I don't know my lefts or my rights or my ups or my downs. Life is not a box of chocolates it's a bowl of melting dairy.
-I'm grounded- for lying. two weeks in my room and they take my blankets; that's what the doctors told them to do. While I shiver in the night all alone, I'll think about what I did wrong. We are so disappointed in you Savannah.
Im starting to feel less vanilla and more... rocky road. I'm to be seen and not heard. I have two ears and one mouth and I am to be using them in that proportion.
I've gotten so used to hospital socks and cold spoons and the mindset of 'you're the problem' and 'boys will be boys'
Later in life I'll get to tell him that I no longer have a vanilla scoop for a face, I have bags under my eyes and tobacco in my teeth, the only thing sweet about me is this menthol flavor in my mouth. I fixate on anything other than speaking so that the world can't hear what I have to say, even if the law believed me, even if my friends believed me, even if our parents believed me, a prison cell could never hold you.

bundle the darkness in a tea bag,
hot water
and then rain.
the mailman comes.
a dog barks.
the house on the edge
rushes in.

pick one:

a. the flowers bloom,
set sail,
dream.

b. the candle burns down,
the flowers are wilting.

calm and chaos
through the eye of the needle
a shirt needs mending.

another day begins

I think my lips are chapped because I've kissed so many boys who don't love me.
You ask me 'what do you taste like?' I don't think its very **** to say regret and sadness.
You say 'when can I taste you' My taste has been passed around so many tongues there is nothing left for you.

He tells me 'I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you' as he kisses my neck. The next week the bite mark on my belly is fading and I can barely remember the colour of your eyes.

My sister says 'you will change your mind' she says, 'all woman want to be mothers'.
I have stumbled in at 4am with the taste of strangers in my throat to see my mother sitting upright waiting for me, I think of the night I spent crying on my mothers lap in a&e;, certain I couldn't make it through the day, the way my brother scowls at my mother, my sister telling her that 'you could've done more, you could've walked away.' I. Dont. Want. Children.

My mum tells me she is old, she is tired. She desperately needs a man to hold doors open for her and carry her shopping. I am trying to remember that needing someone does not mean you are weak.

My grandmother gave me waist beads to encourage fertility. She says 'god gave you those hips to birth children'. Ive never told her that i lost my faith in god the year i lost my virginity.  And if there is a god, i don't want his ******* fertility. I want to break these beads and let drugs engulf me to prove my grandmothers blind faith wrong.
I laugh and pray before our meal and kiss her forehead, 'god bless'.

He tells me 'i know youre *****, its natural'. I laugh and play along for his delight. 'women are just like toys, television, easy puzzles'. I think of my father beating my mother, my fathers face all the men ive walked past in the street. My mothers face is my own.

'if you don't want boys to touch you you shouldn't wear tight clothes'. I think of all the boys who have run their fingers over my back when i was dressed in clothes from neck to ankle. I wonder if god is a sexist man. I wonder if there's any men who aren't implicitly sexist.

He tells me, 'I'll spend hours on you, I'll make you believe in god again'. There is nothing I can do but laugh. I ask him, 'does your mother know you speak to girls like this?'
He ***** his teeth, 'do you always have to be so difficult?'  
I kiss him but I think of his mother, foreign and lonely, 2 sons and no husband.

He says 'you need a real man' I think of all the other boys who have told me that before leaving me.
He wants to know why I'm in hospital so much, 'how are we going love each other when you can't tell me what's wrong with you' I don't want to tell him that I've cut my arms so badly I can see god in my blood, and sometimes the voice in my head screams so loud I black out. I kiss his chest. He doesn't ask again. I resent him for that.

I've been ignoring my fathers phone calls for two weeks because his voice sounds like absence and I don't want to hear another 'I love you' from a man who doesn't know my secrets.

I was deep in lucid sleep.
You fed me food doctor told me not to eat.
I didn't question,
but your motives to myself.
A landfill of poison,
and you mean it all for me.
Each rose another thorn,
each bite another death.
I was deep in lucid sleep.
My innocence I must keep,
is led astray for just on night.
Here I, to live, must fight.

She faded into the shadows
        of the love
             she wished she could forget
She solemnly swore
        to drown herself
               in the memory of her regret
Her eyes burned at the sight
         of the lost love
             she'd erased years ago
Her thoughts wondered
         and traveled to places
               she never meant to go
Life attacked her before
         she was even ready
                to feel the pain
Love forced her into the storm
         before she'd even
                 experienced **the rain

At one moment, your depression is telling you that you don't care what happens. Then the next moment, your anxiety is screaming and clawing at you to do something. Having depression and anxiety is a constant war inside of yourself. Though, there are no winners.