Putting others first

can mean a good friend

but it is cursed.

It makes you blend,

teaching your friends the worst

putting you second, becomes their thirst.

I think I'm cursed.
Like my mom... I guess it's true.
The way I get lost in all of you.

You seek me out.
The mystery that is me.
My strange coloured eyes.
And the slight curve of my body.

You somehow like the way I look.
But when I speak,
That's the true hook.

You fall for my image.
This broken little girl.
How she seems so miserable,
But makes your heart twirl.

Leads you on adventure.
Makes you misbehave.
You question your morality.
Yet feel more alive than you ever have.

I bring this beautiful destruction to all that fall too close.
They fall in love with nothing.

I can't be held on to.
And no one really wants to.

The only thing that I can promise,
Is an utterly tragic end.

I am your illness,
now pay attention to me,
I'm the reason you thrive,
I reside inside,
You're a taxi cab
and I'm your driver,
When they inquire about
your lack of sanity,
You can tell them I
drove you insane.

Thanks for letting everyone else
know my name,
Now my corners and crannies
are home to cobwebs of shame,
And I can't crawl out of any of them...
You are a cursed disaster,
nothing natural about you,
although,

You have the deepness of the ocean,
the warmth of the fire,
Deep planted roots of the earth,
and the breeze of the air,
a breeze of "I'm stronger than you",
a breeze of "I'm defeating you".

But I do not like having
my breath taken away
so suddenly,
I ponder my own existence;
Just smother me in dirt
so at least  I'll know
where the destruction
is coming from.

- Anti

shamed for showing too much
shamed for not showing enough
over ****** warrants being called a ****
not ****** enough and I’m called a *****
so what am I supposed to do?
never leave the comfort of my judgement free home?
oh wait, that’s not true
mainstream media bashing the idea of individuality
sure they say they support it
but if they really did
would we, constantly, see the same features, plastered on magazines?
trends change quickly
and my body sure as heck can’t keep up
that’s okay though,
I was never one to conform to the societal standard
the thick thighs, “fat ***”, skinny waist, and *******
that I’m supposed to have,
but am supposed to cover up?
I’m sorry but if I had been “blessed” with those physical attributes
I would not be so eager to cover them up
and is “blessed” even the right word to describe
what so many women have come to despise?
large chests that cause back pains,
the unwanted attention and ****** comments?
maybe they aren’t so blessed,
but are rather cursed
that in a society like ours
we are taught to hate ourselves no matter what
instead of embracing the unique beauty that we are gifted
rather than celebrate the intricate details of our souls
and the crazy two A.M. thoughts that run through our minds
the stunning stream of consciousness that separates us from the rest
but unfortunately,
we have assimilated into one
bland society,
where variety is shunned
and everyone is the same

you held me down and pinned both my wrists to my sides while i screamed and i yelled and i abused everything in sight. your body weight kept me down; you were strong enough to keep me from hurting myself but gentle enough not to hurt me. i cried and i thrashed and i told you i didn't love you anymore i told you that you were the problem i blamed you for everything wrong in my life and you just stayed put without a single word and didn't stop me because you knew when i entered this state of mind, you just had to let it play out its course. i had a shaking body and a tear-stained face but at least i did not have ****** wrists. i eventually cried it out and as i lost energy from the fight i gave up and my body went limp. you let go of me then and sat right besides me. you held my cold body close to you and the sound of my slow breathing played in your ears all night. you couldn't sleep, how could you? my vile words and false accusations tore through your heart and your mind and even though you knew i didn't mean them it didn't matter because these words would go through your head for the rest of your life. but you put them aside and watched the rise and fall of my chest, thankful that the heart underneath it was still beating and that's what kept you going. sometimes you wondered whether the real me was the one late at night who left bruises and cuts on your chest when i tried to push you away so that i could hurt myself again or the 10am me who begged for your forgiveness, the one with dark circles under her eyes and regret in her veins. sometimes you think back to the time i pushed you out the front door and you sat outside on the doorstep until i opened it 5 hours later and fell into your arms sobbing. sometimes you think back to the time i baked you cookies and cupcakes and burnt them a little because i've never been able to create with my hands, only destroy. at the end of it all, you watch me sleep, my tiny body cuddled into yours and even after all is said and done, you look up to the night sky and thank the stars and the sky and destiny or whatever greater power is out there for keeping me safe just this one more night.