i pick at my skin it a desperate attempt to pull the anxiety out.
if it could ooze out every pore and tear,
maybe i wouldn’t be shaking,
fueled with the rage and fear panic attacks hold.

i pick at my body to rip at the insecurity.
scars are a sign of my fragile self image,
makeup is the mask i use to forget.
a thick black line tracing my eyelids;
a heavy layer of powder masking the blushing of my cheeks.

i pick at my mind to understand what this diagnosis means to me.
i pick and i pick and pick at every idea and thought of this hell the universe has placed me in.
i tear and rip at them until my mind is as numb as my skin.
i pick until i can pretend i can understand.

feelings rush through
veins of red—
pulsating,
plotting,
yearning.
a breath,
a word,
a touch,
a kiss—
one ***** now
the world is red.

There in the field she came to me,
The last of the silver honeybees.
I could see the years worn in her face,
Watercolor eyes and tear glass stained.

She held the ache behind her eyes,
So young to have her throat closed tight.
Poor girl, an orphan, with ribs of steel
Bone cage laced too tight to feel.

Then came the lonesome cosmonaut,
Betwixt the stars, those years he lost;
A nomad’s tale, nor here nor there
Too high up to come down for air.

Celestial darlings, they go round and round,
Dysphoric we hasten the final burnout:
From birth to evanesce, such hedons expire
Would love rot my teeth for afflictions less dire?

Last came the poet, out from the gloam
******* on pennies, and ink soaked through bones.
She gathered her strength and fell from the sky
While friends in high places twinkled goodbye.

i’m still heartbroken,
lost without the person i turned to when my world was upside down.
but you proved that you stopped caring,
just like everyone else before you.
i know i am difficult,
a mess that’s so broken you kept getting cut on the pieces.
you promised me you would be there through thick and thin,
but now here i am becoming a narcissist writing about the pain you’ve caused.

I feel like there’s something dormant in me
That I can’t seem to wake up
But sometimes when you touch me
It’s like hitting my funny bone

I feel a turbulence
I feel a ghost
I feel something
Trying to fight
To be acknowledged

I’ve done so much recovering
I’ve come so far
I’ve fought so much
But here we are

In your bed
Curled up to the edge
You try to comfort me
But I’m not hearing it

What is it?
What is it?
What is it?
What’s wrong?

Why can’t I figure it out
And then move on?

I don’t understand
What the problem is
But I feel something
Occupying my head

It’s strange to feel full
When you haven’t ate
So why am I so upset
When I am somewhere so safe?

I don’t understand
I don’t understand
I tried writing that night
But I couldn’t understand

I picked up my phone
And stared at a blank note
I tried a few words
But only wrote,
“What’s wrong with me?”
And over I rolled

I went to the bathroom
I crawled out of my skin
My fist hit my thigh
But I don’t know why I did it

How infuriating
To feel so disturbed
And not know what it is
That’s making me hurt

I feel like there’s something
In the back of my head
Determined to pull me
Back down to the depths

I’ve recovered so much
I’ve put in the work
I have more to do
And there will always be more

I am at peace with that,
But for now I am upset
I feel like there’s screaming in my mind
But I can’t really hear it

All I hear tonight
Is static and clips
Little fragment
I am a tiny shard

I wake up tomorrow
I will wake up tomorrow
I wake up tomorrow
And tomorrow will come

Tomorrow
Today
Yesterday
Tomorrow

The days
happen
Happened
Happening

I happen all around them

I wonder when
I will wake up
Present?

Without one foot in tomorrow
Without one foot in yesterday
Without happening to fall
Somewhere in between

When will I wake up
Next to you
And feel again?

This numbness frightens me
You hit my funny bone
And it tingled
It reacted

But funny bones only feel funny
For a few moments in time
I’ve been reeling for days
And I feel like I’m fumbling around
Dancing around
The edge of something
B I G

Why can’t whatever it is
Just wake up
And let me feel it?

Woke up to a pale gray morning
Gray bed, gray room, gray me
And it took a hundred deep breaths
For my eyes to see
The blue, the red,
‘cause my head
Was telling lies again

Woke up staring at the ceiling
To a stale cold noon
And it took a hundred deep breaths
To mute down the gray tune
The silent words
With weight of worlds
That said I was to blame

Woke up to a scary evening
Trapped inside my head
And it took a hundred deep breaths
To cut apart the thread
That choked my throat
With lines I wrote
Of guilt and hate and shame

Woke up with this red-blue feeling
Mixed all up in gray
And with each one of the deep breaths
I unmixed them again
See red, feel blue
But every hue
Makes me who I am