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I love you,
Her boyfriend used to say
Every time he missed her birthday by a day.
Those three little words accompanied with
Thanks for your forgiveness,
That she never really gave
Beneath her false smiles.

You are beautiful,
Belongs to her mother
Who dressed her up in frills that itched
And tied doll ribbons in her hair.

You are gorgeous,
Whispered her second husband
Only in bed and not
When she had morning breath and hair,
And needed to hear those words then.

I hate you,
Never slips past her painted lips
While shining so brightly in her eyes.
dessa Nov 2018
Quiet household
They do not hear
Loud whispers
Harsh reminders
They very much feel

I have 14 tiny moles did you know
I can count
I count when they fight
I count when my mother couldn't
count on my father

We don't talk when we fix
We huff when we move
We hiss when one makes a sound

I tie the broken nylon guitar string
Just for fun
Around my neck
It hurts a bit but
This kind of pain is not as bad as
The one I'm trying to rid myself of

My sister tries to listen to them
My brothers distract themselves
I write these things
I hear my father yell


We'll be alright.
The precise date and time was when this event happened.
My family isn't perfect. I could tell you that we're dysfunctional and at times, especially during my earlier childhood years, abusive.
But we're trying.
Sophie Kim Nov 2018
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as my stomach would growl in my nutritions class
and i learned to inhale sharply to somehow combat the noise
the noise of my stomach screaming to the world in that backstabbing way
that i am not eating breakfast
nor did i eat much of dinner
nor will i want to be able to stomach anything for lunch

“i’m completely normal”
my eating habits aren’t rapidly fluctuating
i’m not sleeping during completely random times of the day
trying to sleep off my body’s hunger
like i can sleep off frustration
(nutrients are a constant need
they don’t just stop being things you need
because you just don’t want anything
in your body anymore)

you used to want so much

what’s so baffling is that sometimes
hunger can feel like the muffled conversation
riddled with worry
hunger is the knocking on the door
telling you that it wants to come in
and you don’t want it to
but for a reason you know makes no sense
but it makes perfect sense in the moment

when your brain shakes hands with itself
and tells you that eating is for when the work is done
when the reward is deserved
that a need is a want
and needs are intangible things that keep you socially alive
rather than actually
and then you ask yourself
if you, wanting to feel alive
is the problem

when i don’t eat
i am empty
i don’t make ****** functions
because my body cannot function
and when i function,
my body is empty
and to keep my body empty
i do not eat

there is no beauty in feeling hollow

breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as i could barely stand up in a hot shower
as i could barely utter a conscious word
without overworking my brain
my brain that shakes hands with itself
to communicate with itself
that i do not deserve to eat food
i do not deserve to feel alive

i want eating
to feel normal
i want to put
priority on food
but i cannot bear
to feel present
but i cannot bear
to be present
when i do not
feel present
because i am
not present
i am not
CautiousRain Nov 2018
Honored to be the one
who brings love to the confused
and deranged,
to those who use
more than they give,
and to the ones
who scare everyone away;
honored to be the one they loved the most
before one of us must move on.
Honored or cursed? Nothing hurts more than loving someone so ****** up and them genuinely loving you but being so toxic you can't be around them
Horrible fates of my life it seems, to love and be loved by people like that
I'll cherish what good came from it
Nothing touches me more than knowing it was so hard for them to be good and that despite it all they tried to be their best for me, even if their best was still awful
Penelope Nov 2018
my Mother, seems to have given up on the children.
and her health, seems to be
failing her.
irony, seems to be the only consistent thing
About the whole scenario.
however, it never ceases to amaze me
Her ability, to carry out her responsibilities
without ever fully being there.
Maya Oct 2018
i sleep in a house
but dream of a home

i miss what it was like.
where did i go wrong?
can we calculate the precise moment that a building collapses?
can we remember the exact moment that our lives crumble around us?
i miss the way things were.
Liquid Bear Oct 2018
You wear a cloak of bruised blue
and come to me with a wilted rose,
a waning moon in your sunken eyes.
Your words ******* my failing mind
like a thousand shivering beggars
searching for fire in every corner.
When you're inside me, you don't see
the wall of ice that hides the bones,
the ruined cities, the ***** ugliness
of unspoken words and stillborn thoughts.
All you see is a portrait of yourself
in snarling hues of red, dull shades of grey
on a sea of pitiless black.
Still, I kneel at the altar of this madness,
gathering your tears as they turn to stones,
fending off your snakes with oily words,
burning myself at the stake of your pain.

Somehow, I'm still alive.
I have no choice but to hold the mirror
up to your eyes and let the truth
consume you.
I wrote this poem a little over a year ago. It was inspired by quite a dysfunctional friendship I was tangled in some time before.
temporary Oct 2018
I pull at the strands of his shirts, his sweaters and his jeans.  
I become a seamstress and know he will come to me.

He buys new clothes instead.
Maya Sep 2018
or ****
or both
in my dad's bathroom.
on his second wife, thousandth girlfriend and fourth kid.

four kids
all with different moms
makes for an interesting bunch
if you have the patience for them.


i would not call
two holes in our apartment wall
and sore knuckles
to each
their own
i guess.

it must've taken some patience
to drive to vegas
marry a girl
you'd known for 4 months.
attachment issues?
on a seven year old me?

stepmom #2? #8?
faces blend together
names turn into

on your good days
of type one diabetic balance
and anarchy signs in the kitchen
i love you

but on your bad days
i love you to death
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