people only start caring when you're deadly skinny.

What if I needed
For you to simply glance my way..?
Would it validate my existence?
Make the invisibility cloak start to
fray?

What if it was essential
To communicate your thoughts and
fears?
Would it make me less mechanical
And find a way to allow the tears?

What if it was vital
To not dash and dine behind closed
doors?
I wonder if that adjustment
Makes for serene and calming shores?

What if letting go of the toxic
Is an integral part of growth?
Does that lead to a sense of
secureness?
Not being afraid of the things
unknown?

What if touch was necessary?
A hug to make it all go away...
Would the craving for what was lost
Be an obscurity that was never in the
way?

What if ALL the "What If's"
Bring light to just one truth?
Would I welcome in the contentment
Had I been nurtured in feeling loved
by you..?

so as of next week i will be starting my first year of college in a town too far away to come home for an evening and people keep telling me about the “freshman fifteen,” its inevitability, like i dont know how to live alone and the response to that is somehow gluttony. i dont think people realize how good i am at not eating. my digestive system still hasnt forgiven me for when i was sixteen and liked the taste of anorexia. no one ever talks about the fact that apparently part of recovery is running to the bathroom twenty minutes after every meal and having to stay there for twenty minutes after every meal because once you stop eating, your stomach stops holding anything. your intestines start making up for lost time. and it’s gross to say it but it’s something i live with and in reality the symptoms make me want to just stop eating again. there’s a reason i didn’t get the biggest meal plan. maybe i’ll start working out again, because that always helps make me forget that im missing dinner again, because thats what i did last time. i dont like the way people talk about the “freshman fifteen” because they dont know what i was like when i was sixteen. they dont know how good i am at not eating.

my body and i,
we do not always
get along.
our relationship,
like that of an old married couple.
an old married couple who got married a little too young,
too unprepared,
too wild.

a couple that's been together way too long,
so long that, now
we could not be with anyone else.
we don't know how to
and anyway, we have the same friends.

my body and i,
we fight a lot.
years upon years of arguments,
betrayals.
too many feelings have been hurt.
i'm not sure if there is even any trust left,
both equally as guilty as the other.


but there's still love there, somewhere,
deep down
and every now and again that goodness will appear,
hidden within the little things;
leaving meals out for each other,
tucking the other into bed after a long day
warm showers.
small moments of love

we stay together.

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
game
Opportunities for the illumination of color
are very brief and rare

For far too long
I've been comfortably numb
Walking to the cadence
Of someone else's drum

Expectations are piling up
And running me ragged
The edges are harsh, always broken,
And jagged

Creating many different wounds
That have no time to heal
I built walls around them all
And forgot how to feel

I lost my identity
Trying to become who everyone needed
All the while, killing my inner self
That faintly begged and pleaded

How do I reacquaint myself
With a person I never knew
Being OK with who and what lies ahead
And opening the door to something new

I regret remaining so small
I regret being removed from it all

I regret the crippling fear
I regret wishing to disappear

I regret my deafening silence
I regret not showing more defiance

I regret giving you so much power
I regret the way I would cower

I regret believing your lies
I regret those blurred family ties

I regret the bridges you burned
I regret leaving the ashes unturned

In a way, my regrets always kept you near
Instead of severing the relationship when it became clear
That you no longer cared
Then again, you never really did
It was merely the wishful thinking
Of your broken hearted kid