Alle Jan 6
we all have our voices

there’s the one made of sunshine and joy
that speaks during the day
the one who laughs at jokes
and smiles and flirts at everyone
the childish one who must be reminded
that the world is not merely light

but then there’s the other
made of tears and night
who pipes up when you lay in bed
and whispers, “you aren’t good enough”
the sorrowful one wise beyond its years
who never fails to remind you
that this is what the world is like
She looked at me and pulled the scissors out of my hands. Her eyes drift towards my arms. She says she never trusted me with anything sharp.

I have serrated edges
I need someone to keep me away from high places
They read my diary pages and look at me like my guts are hanging out
She tells me I'm made of glass and she is getting tired of existing as an ambulance

Sometimes I go out too deep
I put so many holes in the ship I can't believe it didn't sink
It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
They used scotch tape to put me back together
This poem has been inside me for years. I finally spit it out.
A Jan 3
Dating someone with trauma and an eating disorder
Is sometimes dating someone who you
Can't touch
Or
Can't see
Or
Is constantly hidden behind
Shield
After
Shield
Because why should you see the inner working of their mind
If it’s something they’re afraid of themselves
guess who's back
always anxious Dec 2018
I breathe in until I feel like my lungs might explode. I tighten my neck muscels and before I can think - My entire body is tense.

I'm trying to supress it. It has ruined so much but I will not let it ruin another moment...
I grind my teeth trying to supress it further, not realizing that grinding my teeth ... was a tic too.

Letting my mind slip for a second; I come to find that I have failed - once again
I flick my head, blink my eyes violently - turning the day into a stop motion movie - Once again I already know the plot.

Everything is moving in slowmotion around me - my body moving too fast to hold it in I fail - once again my body is dancing to a beat that is not mine.

I feel the pain in my neck. It is sore from giving into the neverending urge - once again it is strained from constant twitching and has been for *** knows how long.

I try to ignore the pain and focus on supressing what's coming next, but being distracted by the pain I fail - once again I flick my head and exhale as fast as humanly possible. The exhale doesn't come alone - it never does. A pallette of sounds escape my mouth.

It was not me making those sounds, but the lungs affected by the pain are mine.
I feel the cycle starting over - once again.

It goes through me like a wave of energy.
I have been robbed of the control over my own body - once again.
The power to fight back has ... vanished.

I go to bed early but sleep late; battling this force with every shard of energy I could possibly have left - Once again leaving me exhausted enough to finally sleep, despite the constant twitching.

They say it's a chemical imbalance in my brain.
Too much dopamine is released.
As far as I'm concerned dopamine is a "Feel good hormone", so why does it make me so miserable?

I lay here thinking about when this cycle will end?
And when it finally does end, when will it restart? - Once again...
I suffer from tourettes syndrome. This poem is written about how it feels to have a tic attack
- an unknown length of time filled with constant tics. It can last anywhere from 2 minutes to 24 hours.
Andrew Dec 2018
I eat
Once a day
But I still eat

Probably too much
The scale sure thinks so

I'm so tired
People are noticing

There's so much lying
So much hiding

I'm done
Nothing is working
I don't want to be here anymore
Andrew Dec 2018
Last night
You saved me
You saved my life

I know I will wish that you never stopped me
Nonetheless, I am grateful

I'm sorry I made you cry
I'm sorry I brought the image of death
To your mind

Please don't cry
I never meant to make you cry
Orchid Dec 2018
how do i articulate
the way i crave to open my veins and watch the universe pour out
the red
dripping down the sink
my temporary fix
i **** for the sting of my forbidden lover
it has been three years since your stainless, shiny lips kissed my arms
and my thighs
i long for you to hold me again
Orchid Dec 2018
there was no masked man in the streets
no dark alleys
no wandering empty city streets at night
it was us
and a bed
and a no that died on my lips
a stop i never said but longed for
it was on those dingy sheets that i became a shiny object
made only to please you
suddenly
i was covered in rust
coming to terms with ****** assault is hard
Sav Dec 2018
I knew a girl who wrote poetry, and I know a girl that died.

She was so far away, and yet her words hit close to home.

She was here, and she was there.

We went to different highschools.

I was a baby *******.

Barley understanding what that even meant.

I went to her show. A play. A tragedy.

Her words, still touched me.

The first time I used the term 'touched me'
I got snickers from the crowd and had to say "not like that..."

It was sixth grade.

I knew a girl who wrote poetry, and I know a girl who died.

I am glad that I told her I was there for her.

But I still know a girl who died.
Sarah Nielle Dec 2018
“Okay you can stop now
I’m uncomfortable”

It’s like my scream couldn’t even be heard underwater
And even if they could no one would hear them
My body was stuck and
I felt like I was just withdrawing from life

My bones ache and remorse from the bruising
My heart breaks and hurts from the lashings

“You didn’t STOP
Why didn’t you just STOP.
That’s all you had to do and I’d be okay”

I am nothing more than a ******* shell now and that’s all I’ll ever be
all because of you

I constantly feel alone with any man who tries to love me
I’ll constantly be accused and feel like every last thing will always be my fault

My soul will always be tainted and brittle

You did this

Because you couldn’t stop.
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