It always happens this way.
same time, every year,
when the leaves burn red and descend from their perches.
same feeling, like I could be anyone else
I could be you,
you’re getting older in a city you now call home,
and thinking of you happy
makes my stomach turn.
Maybe I’m jealous.
Maybe I’m guilty.
Either way, I can still hear your voice
saying something casually poetic
while our unspoken words made me sick.
I’d like to think that every part of you has left me,
and that it’s been long enough to say we never even touched.
And I still can’t decide who the victim really was,
when you’re out there living,
and I’m only pretending.
She was a young girl with an old soul,
and she lives in nearly every memory I have
from the entirety of my teenage years.
I knew the darkest parts of her.
When things were rough at home,
I would sit with her while she cried,
and try my best
to find the words that she needed to hear.
To this day, I still can’t put my finger on
when exactly things changed for good.
I think it happened so gradually
that we didn’t even notice -
like the way the earth is in constant motion,
but we can’t feel it spinning.
Somewhere along the line,
she stopped coming to school
and quit dancing
and became someone I did not know.
I’ve always felt like we caught on too late.
She was already skin and bones and not much else,
already entirely trapped in the firm grip of her disease.
I can’t remember the last time I saw her,
or what the last words I spoke to her were.
And I wish that I did,
because, though it’s difficult to accept,
there’s a chance that the sickness
has already taken her life
at some point in the last six years.
My only hope is that, wherever she is,
she has found the happiness
that I knew existed inside of her all along.
"You can't wear that,"
"You're too fat,"
The words echo inside my empty belly,
"You shouldn't have eaten that."
In the back of my throat is a model,
A body type I've aspired to be,
I shove in my hands to grab that model,
Bringing back everything I had for tea.
I look in the mirror,
Presented with teary, bloodshot eyes,
Seeing my aspiration that had gone to shit,
I still don't look like that model,
I'm still just a "fat bitch".
No one is ever going to love you.
I tell myself these things because I know it's true.
The weight of possibly someone loving me gave me false hope.
I fell in love before, not even with someone I dated, but with someone I saw.
She isn't the girl I spent 5 years with.
She's the girl who brings me books, and calls me sweet names.
No one is going to love me.
She's the girl who makes my problems float above my head, almost invisible.
The smile I wear isn't fake.
When her hand holds mine, I feel like a giddy school girl.
No one will ever love me.
I'm not someone who has loving friends.
I'm someone who allows myself to be pushed.
My bones break, and my chest is tight.
She will never love me.
I pushed her away because my disorder and mind is too heavy to hold.
She will never invite me to hang out, or have fun.
I have to accept this.
They see strength
A rock that's weathered but not broken
They see loyalty
A bond of trust that's always there but never spoken
They see considerate
Arms open wide and ready to give
They see creative
Enough pieces of talent that show where my soul lives
I see weakness
A mere pebble wore down by the constant storm
I see alienation
The meek and solemn path chosen to tread upon
I see estranged
Forever building walls so no one gets close
I see meticulous
Where everything is flawed by a perfectionistic boast
I often wonder what would happen
If both perceptions collide
Would one overshadow the other
Keeping the raging angst inside
Do they see what's real
Do I see only lies
The truth becomes muddled
When playing from both sides
Why am I hiding
And afraid to let go
Lurking in the shadows
Never letting my true-self show
Will I one day be free
From this torment inside
Finally accepting myself
Casting all doubt aside
Imagine an existence
Without the masks and veils
A willingness to be open
Exploring all that entails
I long to find the place
Where both views intertwine
That will be the moment
This life will truly be mine
How to hang on
When the world looks so bleak
How to be strong
When all appearances seem weak
Words that are spoken
Does one take them to heart
Do you dare to take a chance
On that shot in the dark
Rise up is a phrase
That seems fleeting at best
Still, it lingers in a soul willing
To put faith to the test
Bound to but not broken
By the fear that's underneath
Allows a sense of hope to arise
And strive for inner peace
Determination is a constant
That's never been cast aside
That one unwavering thing
Still, keeps the spirit alive
Color is eluding
Never been a fan of things bright
Gray tones are consistent
Giving way to comforting night
A voice that's muted
By all things loud
Will never be heard
While controlled by the crowd
Opaque is appealing
A means of not standing out
Creating an impenetrable fortress
Of walls to hideout
Time can cause a slight iridescence
A glimpse of what was once there
Though blending in, is the name of the
Opportunities for the illumination of color
are very brief and rare