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  Apr 2016 sheralyn
emma jane
My eyelids seem
to be the strongest part of me.
When the rest of my body
into the ocean
of blankets they
float open upon the white water
the waves of sleep.
This is when you come back.
In this mattress I am a piece
of clay and I can still feel the deep indentations of where your fingers
wrapped themselves like Ivy around my hips.
Hips, that stuck out like white flags of surrender and
fell to the ground in a straight line.
I can still hear
I am a broken record,
and your whispers are the only track that plays at this hour.
“You are fat”
“Look at how flat you are Emma, no boy will ever look at you.”
“You are ugly.”
These are the nights when I can
feel the spiderwebs your words wrapped around my ribs and
listen to the way my heart beats constricted
in its cage, your hand still clenched around it.
Can’t you see me bleeding?
Safety lies
beneath my eyelids but you pull them open
I can feel
your icy touch behind my eyes as I stare
coldly at the ceiling.
you demand to be heard.
Did you mean to put your words
in my pocket when you reached in to steal the sleep that was nestled there like crumpled dollar bills?
Do you realize that you stayed with me?
Can you take your stolen midnight hours back and place them on your pillowcase?
Will your eyelids close?
Or can you still hear my cries of protest as your soundtrack plays into the night?
I don't understand?
Did you think it wouldn't hurt me?
Or did you want to live forever,so you put your
fingerprints where you knew they wouldn't fade.
This is almost the completed version of a poem I am submitting to a contest. Please please please leave feedback and suggestions. I really want this to go somewhere. I believe it is a message that people need to hear.
  Feb 2016 sheralyn
emma jane
Would it tear you apart to know that I was clean for so long.
Would it tear you apart to know that the the number is back to zero.
Would it hurt if I told you how you woke up those monsters inside my head that all steer me towards steep cliffs of insanity.
Would it hurt you to know that I stepped off.
Would you cry knowing that you choosing her broke me.
Would you cry if you saw my shattered bones spelled your name.

No I don't think it would.
My screams are not silent, they are carved into my body, they erupt from my eyes but baby you never were one to notice how my heart bled for you.
Our love was a metaphor written in a language you didn't understand.

maybe you need to learn to read.
back to zero
sheralyn Dec 2015
you don't have to buy expensive things
you don't have to be skinny
and you don't have to show it off
you don't have to be taken
you don't have to tell why you're single
you don't have to wipe your tears,
and you don't have to be like the ones who put them there
you don't have to love someone
you don't have to love yourself
you really don't have to
the only one who's making you,
is yourself.
might as well put this up cuz i got nothin to loose :))
sheralyn Dec 2015
as a child
i thought i was unstoppable

as a child
i told myself that i would always be proud

as a child
i said that no one could hurt me

as a child
i thought that i could tell anyone everything

as a child
i told myself that i would never care about the size of my body

as a child
i thought love was only powerful, not destructive

as a child
i said that i could never lie to myself

but as a human
i should have been prepared to know that i would let myself down
haven't put anything on here for a while.
sheralyn Sep 2015
she stands still
with her eyes steadily
tracing the whisps of
air that circle in front of
her hands quivering
and yet her vision is so
dense, cold memories
are leaning at the tip of
her tounge
but her lips won't budge.
she hears the words
letter by letter-
they just don't get why
she can't just 'socialize'-
why she's so independent
she's so quiet
she's so isolated-
but what i don't get is that
you dare to label her "shy"
and yet you don't even know
what she's hiding from
some people aren't social, but others have fears.
  Jul 2015 sheralyn
sanch kay
and somewhere in-between
i'm okay and it's fine
i lost myself.
slipping through the cracks.
sheralyn Jul 2015
you don't understand-
i can't help that i'm skinny.
a stick that looks useless,
curves small to secure pity.
you don't understand-
its hard to maintain weight.
the food won't add on,
no matter how much i ate.
you don't understand-
i have so many flaws.
freckles galore, and
dark vains that resemble claws.
i'm trying to tell you, yet
you can't understand.
"you're so lucky you're skinny"
"it ***** you can't tan"
surely you'd know by now,
i'm fragile but strong.
i can take all your pity,
but my "luck"- not for long.
i may be skinny and as short
as can be,
but tell me you understand,
before you say you want to be
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