eating disorders are a simile for a coffin.
it hurts to breathe, with 6 feet of dirt pressed on your chest,
6 days of emptiness pressed on your chest.
your mother buried you the day you stopped eating,
your eyes are still open but she does not see past your pale skin,
frail bones,
hollow stomach.
this door does not open from the inside out,
you missed a chance to grab the hand that tried to help you.
if you had known the late nights she spent sobbing over losing you,
before you were even gone,
would you still have chased this emptiness?
the day you lusted for hollowness rather than wholeness,
you squeezed your mothers hand,
and told her to save her love for the living.

I picked myself up
because that was the only option left
nothing in this universe could make me feel any less
than what I truly am
and the power inside me is ever so great
so vast and undeniable
that nothing can break

here i am, clutching tight to your memory with my fists. it’s all i have left to hold without your hands.

children will tell about our love around a campfire like a ghost story because that’s what we’ve become –
the difference is, i want to be haunted by you.
please: switch the lights on and off, slam the doors,
i’ll leave lots of pots and pans on the counter for you to knock around the house.
i won’t fix the creak in the door just so i can hear you come and go.

one of the reasons you left in the first place was so i wouldn’t sit around and wait for you,
yet here i am: sitting around, waiting for you.
i don’t want to do anything else, i don’t think you understand.
i haven’t given up. i’m pulling out all the stops, i’m coming out of the gate with my fists swinging,
i am willing to fight for our love in a way you never were.

i am forcing myself to swallow every single i miss you
i don’t want to admit that losing you feels like losing a limb
i don’t want to admit that i’m still thinking about that afternoon in the car when i felt safe for the first time.
chin up, baby, and be patient,
look at the sky, look at your hands. look at the sky again.
i wish i could know if it means something.

Depression?
It's like a vacuum in your soul
Where you can't breathe.

Depression?
It's like disguising yourself as a daydream
When the nightmare is inside you.

Depression?
Is when you fall into the depths of your fears
And never be able to crawl out of it.

Depression?
Is repeating, every single day:
"I am fine."

I can see you clearly now, but I don't know how that can be, when you're so far away from me

but I can still see the times we shared in the lines on my forehead -
and I can count the amount of laughter you gave me, imprinted in my dimples
and I can feel the softness of your skin -
the scent of you better than any perfume, the presence of you better than the essence of any being

but I don't know how it slipped away,
so quickly and so swiftly -
and like the wind, you went

how am I supposed to mend my broken parts,
if you're still beating,
in my head and in my heart?