the urges are coming back
the urge to skip breakfast
to skip lunch
the urge to work out until dizzy
and lightheaded
the thoughts are getting strong
the thoughts about my weight
about my size
i wish i was never like this
but awful parents that were vocal about their and others weight gives you a complex
oh that poor seven year old me calling theirself fat

Spiteful, yes that is what I am
You think a diagnosis can wash away your sins
But you made me feel worthless and fat
You can try to spin the tale around
But you and I know what truly happened
Your rough heart cut me deep
I’m still bleeding to this day
I drown in my tears from the agony you gave me
Yet you pretend it never happened
You ignore my pain and brush it off
The facade of trying to connect with me crumbled
I see now what your true intentions were
To show that you spend time with all your kids
But I won’t forget the screaming and beatings
It seems worse that you did the abuse sober
No alcohol to make you violent
It was truly you
You can’t blame your diagnosis

you emailed me
it was in my spam
i deleted it without reading it
part of me yearns to know what it said
to feel your arms wrapped around me
but my heart seems to forget how angry and dangerous those hands could be
it wants to feel his warm lips against mine
but seems to forget the lies and manipulation that oozed from them
why do i do this to myself
i don't deserve to be treated like that
i was viewed as something to be owned and dominated and used
not cared for or loved or protected
he pretended to care
but he just wanted my body
i need to drill that into my head so i don't end up with him again
he isn't the one
he is emotionally violent
verbally violent
physically violent
he is not to be trusted or let in again
i will not repeat my mistakes

what is love
how does someone
open themselves to love another
I don't know if my heart
can handle anymore
vulnerability
how does one love healthily
I only know how to idolize someone
to think they can do no wrong
that they're perfect
I'd do anything for them
then to hatred in the blink of an eye
everything they do is wrong
they're the same as trash
I don't want to see them ever again
why do I switch between
idolize, hatred, idolize, hatred
so on and so forth
until one day
I feel nothing towards them
I don't hate them
but I don't idolize/"love" them
I think I must be broken
if I cannot love
or even know what love is

I wish I was in love
and to have them love me back
I wish I could send them "good morning" and "good night" texts
I wish I could spam them with videos
I wish I could hold their hands
I wish I could hug them, kiss them, laugh with them
I wish I wasn't so lonely
I'm always told that I need to love myself before I can truly love someone
but how can I love all my rough edges and sharp thorns
how can I love someone like me
I can love others
I don't see their flaws or if I do, it makes them perfectly imperfect
I see all my flaws and shortcomings
I can love the whole world if need be
but I don't leave any for me
I don't feel myself worthy of love
But I wish I was in love
I could love them
and cherish them
I wish they would love me
and cherish me
and accept that I am not a girl
it sounds like a fantasy
it seems nothing like the harsh reality
the harsh reality of loneliness and abandonment and heartbreak and transphobia

I wish I could've been a kid
a happy kid, a normal kid
a kid who was loved
not a kid who knew which parent was coming and if they were in a bad mood by their footsteps
a kid who played with toys
a kid who didn't slave away taking care of the house and their siblings
I wish my childhood were an actual childhood
I wish I didn't have to worry about getting beat
or screamed at
or not allowed to eat dinner
or made to swallow dish soap
I wish my unhealthy relationships weren't normal to me
I wish I knew what a healthy relationship looked like
I wish I didn't endure what I endured
it was too much for a little kid to carry
and it's too much for me to carry now

I slashed at my thighs
with an anger buried deep inside
no one heard my silent cries
tears blurred my vision
so I wiped them away
and picked up the blade
I use my body as a canvas
and paint an image prettier than me
with my blood
it tells a tale of sorrow and woe
where the child knew nothing of love
so lost and alone
the blade was a comfort
the scars a reminder
a reminder of when life gets tough
and everyone leaves
you'll always have me
since 11 years old I've cut
cut my arms
cut my thighs
see the blood, look now you feel high
higher than depression can reach
now you're sad
let's do it again