She forced me to pray for a god
that never answered my prayers

When I told her that I wish to die,
she told me to recite Al-Ikhlāṣ

In her own eyes,
I was a sinner who didn’t worship
the same imaginary friend as hers

An imaginary friend that let her
steal my innocence instead of saving me
from her cruel hands and piercing eyes

How can I worship a god that
didn’t listen to my desperate cries
when I was abused,
abandoned, and bruised

Mother gave
me a blade

Mine was pink,
hers was purple

It was a useless sharp thing
that’s always in my drawer

One night,
I reached for the blade,
and it felt like my
mother’s embrace  

Every time I used it,
I was being released
from all my pains

Thank you, mother

(it’s just ***)

to consume someone completely

(it’s just ***)

to strip someone of their power

(it’s just ***)

to rob them of their identity

(it’s just ***)

to take away their future

(it’s just ***)

to imprison them in their own bones

(it’s just ***)

to tear them apart

(it’s just ***)

I felt as though i’d wandered into heaven
when i did my first line.
I felt untouchable and perfect,
but addiction did nothing for me.
As the pounds fell off my body,
I realized that i sold my soul to satan.

i don't want to die,
but i don't want to live either.
isn't that such
a nice
thought?

Sometimes when life is harder than it needs to be and my lungs are filled with tv static and all the words I’ve choked down over the years I yearn for the feeling of a blade across skin. I can’t help but look at faded pink scars with envy over a time I could get away with opening my veins as a way to cope. The smell of blood makes me sick, reminds me of a time I was worse off than I am now. When I couldn’t go more than a few hours without draining my body dry. But a sick part of me misses it. My brain longs for one more chance to feel the sting of metal across thin skin. I miss having something physical to bring me back to being alive. When my brain gets foggy and I don’t remember how it feels to be myself I miss having a way to clear the smoke from behind my eyes. Self destruction was my better half. When I was hurting myself I was a better daughter. A more attentive friend. I’m only my best for others when I’m destroying myself.

I once went to outer space
I thought it might be beautiful
I thought I might be part of it
But beauty is misleading.

He told me I was safe with him
He said my body was like the stars
And when you’re twelve and insecure
That’s all you want to hear.

Cautiously I trusted him
I stepped outside one toe at first,
I poked my nose just past the door
I grinned at the unknown –

At once
I gasped–
My lungs collapsed.
And body froze in fear and pain.
Lips pursed, he shoved me further out.
“More or else” he screamed.

I cried for Mom.
I begged for home,
My tears solid in the vacuumed space.
But I was told that mothers don’t
Want a child *****.

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