#collarbones
Grabbing fat that isn’t there,
Dulling eyes
And thinning hair
Peeling skin and bones that ache
Drying mouth
And “bathroom breaks”
Waking up to stomach rumbles
Stagnant breath
And steps that tumble
Dreams of food and calories
Diet pills
And longer sleeves
Endless nights and skin that chills
Never eating
To feed what kills
Being skinny has the price
Of six feet down
And three feet wide
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 10:11 PM UTC
I love you tenderly.
In the morning your peaceful
complexion soft and your
earth-brown hair tousled
against baby pink pillowcase.
My nose pressed against your
cheek, I try to breathe you in
(inhale the smell of sleep) (longing)
with you I can focus in
on controlling my pulse
(1...2...1...2…)
The arches of your collarbones
make me ache
your entire self singing of
promise.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 1:55 AM UTC
You filled your skin with sharp lead and your arms with cigaret burns, without any screams, but with the blue mass that touched your cheeks. You used to think, that to put on a massiv amount of black eyeliner, would hide the fact, that you couldn't sleep at night. And you used to think that starving yourself, would make you feel just a little bit better about who you were, but all you ended up with was a stomach you could fit your hands around, collar bones that stuck far out from your skin, so they could break at anytime and your hipbones were like knifes, that could slice a man open. You used to do and think so many stupid things, and you were just this little self-conscious girl that needed to be loved and accepted by someone. That little girl is still inside you, but you have learnt to control her and say no when she wants to play.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
They thought i used makeup to contour my collarbones and make them pop.
But really.. I simply stopped eating anything.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
When you look at yourself,
Your psychedelic bruises,
Your prosperous veins,
Your ever-increasing freckles,
The stretch marks on your hips,
Your ever-so-slight collarbones,
Your deep blue eyes,
And you say
"Why can't I be lovely?"
Understand that when I look at you,
I see the endless galaxies,
The roads yet to be travelled,
The marvellous constellations,
I see the lines of Jupiter,
The glorious mountains,
I see the wondrous ocean.
So when I say
"Darling you already are"
Know that when I look at you,
I see my world.
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
I want to softly whisper
incomplete poems
on your collar bones
that don't rhyme with anything
but your heavy breathing.
I want to bury my face
in the curves of your neck
because you smell like the winter clouds
and I've been gazing at the sky
since you left.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 12:09 AM UTC
rub your collarbones over mine and leave on me the smell of your skin so I can finally have something to wake up to
you can have all of me
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 12:38 AM UTC
When the dust has settled in your collarbones and the word alone reveberates through you...
What will become of you ?
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 9:26 PM UTC
there's a lot of holes in my life
for example
my waist takes as little space as possible;
a curve is formed in each side
in order to be fitted by
somebody's hands
and i would like them to be your hands
between every bone of my spine
there's a little pause pretending to shape
a path long enough to be toured by
somebody's fingers
and i would like them to be your fingers
when i stretch my neck i find
angles in my collarbones
a piece of architecture to be traced by
somebody's mouth
and i would like it to be your mouth
but your hands hold the curves of other waist
and your fingers wander other road
and your mouth traces the lines of other architecture
and i have all of these holes
and there's a hole in my bed
and i would like to have two
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
a thin layer
of expensive,
french perfume
on your collarbones,
dripping down
due to the
high temperature
you caused when
you walked into
the room.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
she wanted to be skinny.
she wanted to ignore the skin on her body
until it hung loosely off her skeleton
like a wrinkled shirt on a hanger
that needed ironing.
she wanted to be a stick
so that she could fit through the
spaces in the dark of trees
and understand how they fed off of
themselves.
she wanted to know what it was like
to have knives instead of collarbones,
carving off the little chunks of fat,
and throwing them to the side, letting the
festering rats devour the residue of
fourteen years of life.
she wanted to have hips that served as
mountains, looking like the alps,
with climbers covered in furs throwing hooks
over the niches in her body.
she wanted a ribcage that would hold
even the mightiest bird, without letting
a single feather breach her defenses,
never letting a ferocious caw escape her,
because she wanted to be thin.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC