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grace Apr 12
The plan was to break up with me at a coffee shop
That’s smart, I think
A public place, entirely neutral.

That didn’t happen
I got sicker
I couldn’t drive
I could barely get out of bed.

You still came over
You still said you loved me
You still said you wanted to be friends
You still walked away while I cried

I didn’t cry because of you, at first
I cried because it hurt to be awake
My body was tearing itself apart
Nobody was doing anything

I got better, not all the way, not yet
I have a plan for my body, now
I had an MRI today and I have acupuncture every week
I use every oil and ointment in the book

I have space to cry over you, now
I have space to be angry
I can tell your friends how you hurt me
I have time to listen and talk

You don’t want to talk
“I want to be friends”
That’s a lie
You don’t want to take accountability or talk about what happened

We gave each other a year of our lives
We’ve only been alive 18
And yet, you don’t want to talk
You just wanted to break up with me in the coffee shop
down the street from my school
a wildfire Dec 2020
i see her face
there are lines now-
i am missing years.
i know her hands, her hair
her knees and teeth
but she is not me.

days fall from the calendar and i am
stuck here
waiting, watching for her
wondering if she will resurface

i wrap my hands around my own wrists
but they are not mine
i bend with the same knees
but they are not mine
i eat with the same mouth
but it is not mine.

can you find her?
i think the red painted over her-
the searing hot pain in her gut
swallowed her whole.
Careena Dec 2019
"None of us escape this life unscathed"
You told me and I felt
My insides wilt, then cave

"We all break and rust"
But within my Judas body
Was where I laid my trust
I was just trying to be healthy tbh and it didn't work out LOL. I can't be that mad at my body for crapping out on me because it wasn't its fault, but like it *****.
Megan Sep 2019
This morning I woke up with my hand hurting again.
I wake up most mornings with an ache of some sort,
whether it be physically or emotionally.
I thought, not for the first time, about how
I'm too young for this.
See, I was born into this life with a prescription for
pills written into my ribs.
I've been popping them since before I knew what
they meant, or how they destroy my body.
I haven't always been this achey, but I have always
had something wrong with me.
Anxiety stole my childhood, left me running for the
glowing exit sign that is the end of my life.
And I'm not saying I didn't have a good childhood,
but I grew up fearing that toothpaste would **** me
if I accidentally swallowed too much of it.
I still reap the consquences of anxiety to this day.
I grew up with knee problems and anxiety,
grew into depression and now I have to take pills
just to feel normal again.
And sometimes it doesn't work.
See, some days I feel like a regular kid.
I wake up, go to school, come back to family where
I don't have to wonder if they love me or not.
On these days I feel like I can accomplish anything.
I feel like the world is in my hands and all I have to do
is try.
Other days I'm a walking suicide note.
My bed is quick sand, drawing me further and further
into the black that I can't find my way out of.
There's a tornado sending my thoughts into a spiral
and I'm too dizzy to fix this.
When you're this sad, there is no such thing as a
"minor inconvenience."
Everything that stands in the way, small as it may be,
is another reason on my ever growing list of why
I shouldn't be here.
I stayed up until 6 o'clock this morning wondering
why I haven't signed my name on the goodbye note yet.
I didn't reach out to anyone but I still cried when no
one noticed how broken I am.
But why would anyone notice in the first place?
Why would anyone care?

This morning I woke up with my hand hurting again.
As I was taking my daily pills, I wondered, not for the
first time,
If I took enough pain pills, would it cure my aching
soul, too?
Daniel Lockerbie Jul 2019
This black hole
swallows me,
ripping apart
the last fragments of light.
I wonder when
I will collapse
like a dying star
and fade away
into oblivion.

If you could see me now,
in this current state of being,
would your feelings for me change?
Would you welcome me back
into your arms
and be willing
to start again?
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