#unit
~
*Tonight underneath debris
Family foreclosure
...
Heaven's legs dawn through window
Offer artificial hope
...
Employee to love
Dressed for escape
...
Pleasure town angel
A multi-colored pretty thing
...
Mom questions way
Daughter drives to parties
...
Empty lips talk
**** reflection patterns
...
Death inside mom and dad
Beautifully cold skin
...
War god kiss
Midnight blue people (at dinner table)
...
Young shadows flower
Final stars fire
...
Money born cloud
Raining on remnants of family
...
Is there nothing
Left to mortgage?*
~
Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025 at 9:49 AM UTC
by what unit is good enough measured
is it the calluses and cuts on a hand
the crack of a sore back
or by the number of times
skin meets pavement
is it an neglected apartment
the dust collecting on beloved projects
or number of friends
no longer waiting for a reply
tell me
to whom do you bottle your blood for
till when do you wash the sweat off
for what do you owe this pain
so where is the limit
will I/they ever be satisfied
can i take a break yet
or is this not good enough
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
The skinny nurse
was on duty today
alongside the brunette
with the beauty spot.
Big Sid
brought breakfasts
into the lounge
after making sure
both doors
were locked.
The radio played
pop music all day
with the usual chatter
in between.
The skinny nurse
brought around
the medication
each in little tubs
for each of us.
Yiska stood
by the window
watching the snow.
I stood beside her
watching it drift
heavily on fields
and trees
a tractor ploughed
a field beyond
gulls followed in
its track.
Yiska asked me
how I was.
I said
****** off
waiting for
the ECT.
She said
she was too
hated it gave her
headache.
Me too
I said.
I wondered how
my mother
was coping
in the snow drift
how my siblings
were getting
to school.
Yiska's hand
held mine
it was soft and warm.
What time is
the psychiatrist coming?
Yiska asked
the skinny nurse.
Later
the nurse said
a mindful
of information.
I sensed
the bandage
about Yiska's wrist
where she'd slit it
a few days ago.
We stood
by the window
watching the snow.
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 3:26 AM UTC
Anorexia is not collar bones.
It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit.
Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground.
Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness.
Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying
Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders.
A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground.
No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real.
So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act.
Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction.
- Emily Ward
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC