this is not fair.
this is not fair.
i can't be there.
i can't breathe air.
i can't help bear
the weight she wears.
i want to share.
she knows i care,
but she's aware
i can't be there.
this is not fair
this is not fair

i have lived my whole life with the truth,
whether i remember it or not,
whether it is what they think or not,
whether it was real or not.
and i am still me.
i am still the same person.
i am still the same body
and i am still the same soul

my love,
the world has given you so much pain.
i can't bear it for you
and it breaks me to watch.
but i will crawl with you
i will stumble with you
i will fight with you
and i will pray with you.
i wouldn't blame you
if you kept your eyes closed the rest of your life,
but i promise with everything in my soul
that if you decide to open them,
i will be the first thing you see

Some days I don’t want to be the voice of progress,
The cry into the shadows that demands we shine a light.
Some days I don’t want to be strong and silent,
Keeping my hurt hidden behind “Let’s not think of this.”
Today I don’t want to know where the bruises used to be
Or remember the moment I thought I’d climbed into bed with a murderer,
His arm locked around my neck.
Today I don’t want to be a survivor.
I just want to be okay.

In a flash,
the thoughts come back -
"you're fat".

Why?

This illogical phrase used to put me in a haze, made me a slave, to its demands I'd cave.

Broken.

My stomach feels bigger, so do my legs, does my face look fatter? Maybe it's what you ate. You need to fix it, or I will berate.

Watch it.

Weight gain not acceptable, definitely not allowed, do you really want to look like a cow? Punish yourself, less in, more out, look at you, you're just becoming more stout.

Silence.

These feelings are feelings, these thoughts aren't true. All they want is for madness to ensue.

Triggered by perceptions, automatic and vile, deeply convincing, at least for a while.

Now, deep down, I know the truth. I'm healthy and active, no more to do. Fluctuations are normal, restriction is a trap. These thoughts and worries are a big load of crap.

I'll move my attention, to more important things. The blueness of the sky, the joys of spring.

Growth.

Feel my hair in the breeze, hiking in the trees, laughing with friends, around food more at ease.

Triumph.

I wrote this while waiting my turn at Baragwanath Hospital...it suddenly came to me, that I had been speaking to these wonderful ladies at **** Crisis Scotland nearly every day before I came here and started to heal.  Im forever, and ever...grateful ***

"While I wait…"

Today I was thinking,
I had so much time,
Waiting for hours and hours,
Patiently in line

Apprehensive, nervous,
Yet somewhat assured,
I let my mind wander,
Back and back it was lured

Im out of my body,
Now an empty shell,
Going back to the past,
Going back to …hell

It feels dangerous,
Thinking back,
I feel so vulnerable,
It hurts to look back

But here I am,
Waiting in line,
A different person,
To look back, it is time

But who was I?
What was going on?
The fear, the shame,
I had almost no one

Its darkness and pain,
Unbearable pain,
Not trusting anyone,
Even myself, never again

I was something else,
Torture, torture, torture,
Hating myself,
Was I a murderer?

The panic, the fear,
Not knowing myself,
Not knowing inside,
Wanting to **** myself

All of this now
Seems so much worse,
As im getting better,
Im learning to trust

The pain in my stomach,
Thinking back to that time,
Stuck in my house,
Completely out of my mind

Time had stopped,
But I still had to live,
Existing was painful,
It was a nightmare to live

I don’t recognise myself,
Don't know who I was,
But the feelings are still with me,
More traumatic than all else

My blades were my friends,
Taking the pain each day,
Numbing my mind,
Allowing it to “go away”

Cut cut cut,
Every day,
I look at my scars now,
I’ve had to explain

Back there I was me,
But I was totally lost,
Like living a virtual reality,
So totally totally lost

An empty shell,
Yet shaky and trembling,
Wanting to die,
For being a burden

Suddenly
Im lost for words,
Just feeling feelings,
Its too much for words

There was nothing left of me,
Now that I know,
And knowing causes me pain,
How could I have got so low?

I can’t stop the tears,
The confusion, the fog,
Was so intense,
Not knowing who I was

The daymares,
The nightmares,
People grabbing me,
People hurting me

I look at my arm,
I look at my legs,
Nowhere is my body spared,
Apart from my face

I felt *****,
Ashamed,
A burden,
On Society

I disgusted myself,
Yet not knowing why,
Even for calling the helpline,
I felt I should die

Its much like a fog,
Feeling my way through,
Occasionally bumping into things,
My mind says “thats you”

I was so very sick,
I only know now,
Just thinking how sick I was
Makes me physically ill now

It wasn’t me,
Id gone somewhere,
The pain too much,
And the shame, to bear

I break down now
When I describe these times,
I was in contact with people,
Begging them to take my life

It still comes back now,
Triggers, so im told,
I beat myself up,
Hit my head on the wall

It can be overwhelming
When it comes back,
Whether its the ****,
Or just the cruelty I faced

People were cruel,
So so cruel,
They hurt me so deeply,
That I thought I was cruel

I think back to times
I was abused by police,
I was abused by doctors,
In fact, all authorities

They just hurt me more,
They put me through hell,
The pain they caused me,
Left a story to tell

They were cold, suspicious,
Filling me with shame,
Making me believe,
That I was to blame

They traumatised me more,
More than ever before,
Or perhaps I should say torture,
I felt ashamed to my core

So much I could write,
But im struggling for words,
They hurt me, they did this,
Now I realise their curse

I cannot forgive them,
I cannot go back,
Here life's a struggle,
But my trust is coming back

I feel sad for time wasted,
Knowing Pamela would help me,
It pains me now to think
How I just could not let her help me

She believed in me,
Was ready to listen,
She understood,
Even spoke to the policeman

But I always feared
Asking for help,
For I was a burden,
Perhaps id feel worse getting help

They put this in my mind,
….a burden on society,
Dealing with the **** was one thing,
But this was a different story

Pamela tried so hard,
She took me to get help,
But it never materialised,
Instead, I totally lost hope

The days were long,
The nights were longer,
The man in my house,
Or is it my mother?

I didn’t want to exist,
I blocked out my life,
Then remembered what I didn’t want to,
My brain attacking me like a knife

There was no hope,
People are so cruel,
Do they enjoy it?
Watching people become ill?

I didn’t know how sick I was
Until I started getting better,
Im in a better place now,
But with a past full of horror

Its been a long time,
I think it had to be,
For me to find myself,
And to feel free

Now is the time,
Looking back on my life,
There were people, a helpline,
That physically saved my life

Although I was confused,
Not allowing myself to believe,
They told me again and again,
The one thing they did was believe

A have so much respect,
A deep connection too,
To these selfless women,
Who give up their time, for you

There wasn’t much you could do,
But you did everything and more,
You never gave up on me,
As I sat glued to the floor

Im healing slowly,
Reclaiming my life,
But I want to thank you ladies,
You did save my life

I appreciate everything you did so deeply it brings me to tears, thank you from the very bottom of my heart. .

you cover up your fragile skin,
butterfly rashes that snake
their way down your ribs,
paper-thin and streaked with
veins, you call your blood ‘parasite.’

if you were to be believed, you thought that meant
that your pain was to be performed.
to not touch you was a punishment,
but still, you question her insistence
to gnaw at your skin.

bruises that are pretty,
insisted upon you like the ******* leeches
she promises will purge your blood,
your parasite.
“Oh, how lovely it is to be owned.”

there was nothing to be said for teeth,
except “please,” silent stop strangled under your tongue,
but there is something to be said
for this warmth, now,
the first ‘now’ that was never ‘then.’

you do not taste blood when they kiss you.
parasitic blooms on the fragile,
flaking skin of your throat heal, slowly,
when let to rest
under the quiet askance of trust.

maybe that’s what this is.
lately, you’ve learned that you do not enjoy being bitten,
what you loved was giving blood.
lately, you’ve learned that there really are people
who will not ask you to bleed.

whoa whoa whoa
hold up
love addiction in progress
exit to the left
wave goodbye
to rational thought
buckle in buttercup
this ride has highs that feel like
20 hot rails
like getting away from the police when they gave chase and you're riding
hot as ****
it takes you to bliss but watch out for the tail
that fall from ten stories high that withdrawal
I internally panic and do nothing to avoid
the craving
the need
the unrelenting urge to reengage and get another hit
to avoid that 4am empty as a shell feeling
like
the whole world
caved in on itself
and
your ego is dying by eating itself alive
I play this game and tell myself
not
this
time
but it is exactly
when those two words form
in my thoughts
that my head feels
like the mind of ten psychotics spouting word salad  
at full volune
all at once
cognitive dissonance is a *****
oh hell yes the pleasure is exquisite but the pain is
the pain
the death knell
that sweet little reaper
that comes to gather the pieces of your heart spilled on the inside of your Honda civic because you're practical afterall

Nothing to see here
Keep it moving