Surface tension
Tender
Snips away at the inner bruising
Behind the eyes the windows are shut
And the curtains drawn
Run fingers over hidden ribs in the early morning
Witching hours
When fairy dust can decorate the pores
For imaginations sake

Morning skinny is now a norm
I plaster the walls of my subconscious
With posters of picture perfect shells

What they want
What you want
What I have convinced myself I think you want
What I want

What we want

I want to stop
I have told tall tales as unstable as my legs
Written them in invisible ink
Doused with sour lemon stings
So only I can see them
They appear before I eat
And in the quakes of my stomach aches

I know it is there to protect me
The most important parts of my body
The bubble which constantly pokes at me to ask
“what if there was nothing more than me
What if we couldn’t see
Shapes or sizes or colours or better
What if we couldn’t see pretty

Would that make you happy?

How
do I make you happy?”

Maybe I should stop eating, Say that I'm not hungry
Maybe I should fly to New Zealand, Say that I couldn't afford a ticket back
Maybe I should cut carrots, Say that I was hungry
Maybe I should take the bus, Say that I wasn't fresh

Maybe I should trip over a knife, Say nothing
- Freja Jep

I can't sleep
I can't think
I can't eat
I can't live

Or maybe I just don't want to


I can't play guitar
I can't draw
I can't edit
I can't read

Or I'm just not good enough at doing it
- Freja Jep

I like to play diplomat; it's hard to say no
Never the one who decides where we go
Affixed in place by the roots in the past
I hide behind everyone and choose to be last
So I also play victim more than I care to admit
Enough is enough, I've decided, that's it
I've wasted too much time on worry and fear
I think it's time to show the world that I'm here

i don’t want a title
i don’t know if i ever wanted anything
i don’t think i ever thought that i’m enough
i don’t really ever feel a thing

and i hate to repeat “i’m not good enough” ‘cause everyone’s thinking of something else and they think that i say “i’m not good enough for someone” but i actually mean that i’m not even enough for myself.

and the fact that i learned today is that i don’t need to be enough for me because i know i never will and i just have to accept that.

i'm not all that great at opening up
with written words its not that
it's still closed, kept in the expression of art
but when it comes time to speak of the real feelings
i shiver and shudder at the thought of my sensitivity.

i'm not good at opening up
because telling someone you care makes you weak
its a strong thing to say, but an easy thing to exploit
and meaning it mean that you can be hurt
and i've never said something i didn't mean.

so i'm terrible at opening up
because this loving heart is powerful
and i'd hold you to me, listening and keeping you safe
i'd leave myself open, to make you feel comfortable
never seeing the knife sneaking to my heart

i'm awful at opening up
i'm selfish with this compassion
i'm unable to brave the pain
because if i wasn't
who's to help me when my heart is in pieces?

when did fine come to mean depressed, anxious, scared, suicidal, desperate, self-conscious?
when did we start to lie?

"I'm fine," she says, as her stomach gnaws away at her insides, growling for food

"I'm fine," he says, as he pulls the sleeves of his sweater down over his blood-stained wrists

"I'm fine," she says, after purging all of her dinner

"I'm fine," he says, when the anxiety gets so bad that he can't breathe right

"I'm fine," they say, as they write their last goodbye,
one last lie.

sometimes
when i look in the mirror
i see something
beautiful

but
when i look again
it's gone