Peach peels and sticky fingers
Blanket pulled from a cooking body
Its worthless
Rotting full of maggots of poison
Im growing flowers
Bright greys
Unseen by any
Eyes protrude from my ankles
They see the rainbow
They watch the blood drip
How it sinks into the floor
Sipping

"Loosing weight is weird" I think as I stare at my naked body in the bathroom mirror.
I don't feel how I thought I would. My anticipated joy had turned to relief, a burden I no longer had to bear.
My soul has always been chaotic-always waging wars against itself, so of course this too would bring conflict.
The clothes that clung snug to my skin are now too baggy. Clothes I finally felt confident after years of searching for what worked, what didn't, what was flattering, what wasn't.
And now I'm looking up how to shrink everything
And my ******* aren't as full..
sloping and drooping down without being rounded by fat;
like tissues stuffed in a bra that's just slightly too big.
Not to sound ungrateful, because I love this new body (it's an answer to prayer really; taking away the edge of my insecurities) but I suppose it feels a little foreign.
Like a best friends house you practically grew up in: completely memorized in its familiarity; marked by memories, a home away from home, but still not the place you called "home".
And I spent so long learning how to love this body; accepting her flaws, her imperfections, but never quite convincing myself, only to have to relearn again.
And in some ways that makes me...sad?
I don't have another word for it.
Maybe it's a grieving, for the part of me that was a part of me for so long; a part I scolded and criticized.
And I hate myself at times.
Because I was my own bully-projecting my insecurities with verbal lashings.
All because I had this idea that if I was prettier, skinnier, I would feel more wanted and less alone...that it was the missing piece to my happiness.
And the assumed projections of strangers thoughts bombarded me into thinking there was truth in those hauntings,
because somewhere down the line, at an unknown moment in my subconscious, beauty became abundant.
I should get used to this changing skin, because life and age will always be forcing it to keep up, to adapt; It will continue to expand and sag and wrinkle and crease.
And I hope I can learn to love those foreign bodies too, though not so unfamiliar....
                           just unplaced.

Nudes, that's what you wanted me to send you
I didn't want to disappoint, so I sent them to you
I was only 11-12
I looked as small as a elf
You were high
Yet, your parents nor did anyone bat an eye
You were 13
I was dating a teen
Who made me feel like looks were what only mattered
You made my life shattered
Even more than it was already
To face the treatment I received
I was deceived
I thought you were going to treat me nice
But all you handed me was a piece of ice
Covered in a sugar coating
But it was slowly rotting
Since day one
You were that someone
That I truly loved
You were that person that I trusted

Nudes were all you wanted
To ****, were all you wanted
I was scared - uncomfortable
So all I put on the table
Was a photo of my upper body without my shirt and only my bra
It made me uncomfortable with just my bra
Though, I didn't want to disappoint
I wish that I could've made a point
That I was still young
Way too young
To do that

I've realized I committed a crime
Without getting a single dime
Out of it
I hated every single second of it
All I wanted was to be loved
And all you wanted was me to be ******
By you
You wanted me to be underneath you

You ***** *******
I keep thinking about it
All the moments
On all months
How did I like someone like you?
Someone as perverted like you?
You're disgusting
You're revolting
You're so lucky I haven't told your mother about anything you did and said
Now that I think about it, I should tell her about all the things you did and said
Your actions can make your life a living hell
And I'll make it even worse than hell
I hope your life becomes shattered
Just like you shattered
Mine.

i moved to college twenty-five days ago.
i cried the first night, and not a single time since.

the urge to hurt myself on purpose is getting to be overwhelming, but my support system is back home. do i have a support system? i don't want to put this weight on any individual person, god knows it's too much for me.

i need to shake off all my responsibilities, go to a party alone where i don't need to take care of anyone. i need to drink until i can't function, can't think.

half of my soul wants to drop out and move further away. no expectations, no art critiques, no essays. i don't want to have to live up to what i've supposedly chosen to do for the rest of my life.

i need to be drunk.

Have you ever tasted bittersweet?
Have you ever felt broken, incomplete?
Has life ever not been fair blue skies?
Have you always seen through complacent eyes?

Sometimes, comforting the grieving soul
It isn't easy, but you don't know
Seeing tears, you're repulsed and unsure
You'd rather argue than console

Sympathy was made for thee
Apathy thy familiarest treat
For your lukewarm meals I pity thee
Your have never tasted bittersweet.

On a Friday afternoon, in the Burger joint for my weekly treat
Celebrating another week in, that I'd survived another week in the job
I ordered my usual, a Veggie burger meal
They have this lovely Veggie burger, it's a burger made of potato with a lot of other vegetables through it
Is very tasty, this and some nice big chunky chips/ fries along with it, with some sachets of tomato sauce
All rounded off with a nice Black coffee... very nice...
The restaurant was quite busy that day for some reason, my usual seat was taken
So I had to find somewhere else to sit

As I sat there feeling happy with myself
I was reminded of something I'd once read  about the great Irish poet W.B.Yeats
He was sitting in a teashop once looking out the window at the passing crowds
And he suddenly realised that life was good, that he could bless and be blessed
I thought to myself "I knew what he meant"
Then suddenly out of the corner of my eye I notice someone looking over at me... looking directly at me
Indeed they seem to be staring at me
I thought to myself "Better not make eye contact, might be some kind of ******"
Then I noticed someone else was looking over at me too
"What the **** are you looking at!" I thought to myself
And then there was another person and then another
"What the **** are you all looking at??!" I thought getting a little flustered at this stage
Every few moments a head would pop up and start looking straight over at me
I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable
Suddenly it seemed like they were all looking over at me... the whole feckin' room
"What the hell are you all looking at, you bunch of feckers", I thought
"Had I turned into the elephant man or something !!"
Finally I said I'm getting the hell out of here
Their all looking at me
So I stuffed my bag of chips in my pocket
Drained my cup of coffee and wrapped what was left of my burger in a napkin to take away
As I stood up to put on my coat I turned around
And noticed for the first time there was a big TV screen up on the wall right behind me
So that's what the feckers were all looking over at
It wasn't me at all!!!

"**** !" I thought, "spoiled my whole feckin' lunch
W.B. Yeats my ****".

There's so many different paths I want to run down,
Different places I yearn to see.
I'd like to live somewhere beautiful
Where I can simply be

I fight with myself over the fantasies I keep,
Sometimes I'm sure I'll live somewhere far,
I could have a chicken or two,
My dog could enjoy a huge yard.

Other times I know deep down,
I need convenience and I'd surely fail
Without being somewhere crowded,
Delivery is a privilege.

I don't want the middle between these two places,
Because suburbia was depressing,
Living only two inches away from a bustling family,
I didn't like the times I lived with mine there.

I'd need space undoubtedly.
Then the absurdity starts showing,
I think to myself.. I'll find an abandoned city
Maybe a desserted town like the ones tiktok shows me.

I could pretend I'm in my own story
And the empty streets would be my own
I could wander these houses and see what was left behind...
I think it sounds silly but, it always comes to mind.

If I could live in the house of my dreams
It would be somewhere unimaginable
Underneath the deepest seas.
I'd have glass walls, and a ceiling made of stars

I'd wake up to see jellyfish blooms
And sit in awe, nothing to do
I could swim to the surface somehow
And watch meteors fall

I think what I truly desire
Is somewhere comfortable
Where I can imagine these wishes
Without being bothered by time, or people who don't really care

Or maybe I belong on another planet,
Because I feel alien everywhere.