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 Dec 2013 Tori Gadney
Sam Conrad
I have cottonmouth and I'm choking
I miss your hands so I bring them close
I sit you down next to me again in my head
But your hands are full of cotton
You stuff my mouth with cotton
I'm gagging on the cotton
And you're still pretending to be compassionate
Ignoring all my gagging and choking
As you fill my mouth with cotton with a smile
Your new love sitting right on the other side
She is smiling too
I don't know.
where would we be
without our community volunteers
those wonderful people
who are there in times of need

the blood donor
gives a pint of blood
to keep a soul alive
the only payment he takes
is a cup of tea and piece of cake

the carer
who looks after a neighbor
who has no relative around
to assist with showering
and household chores

the Lions Club member
out on the street collecting money
for a wheelchair
to be placed in a hospital ward

there are people
who've an altruistic bent
out in each of our communities
daily assisting others
if these people
didn't come forward
to offer a helping hand
for free
the community
would be the poorer
without their kind deeds
with the cost of utilities
increasing all the time
we've no money
to spend on having a good time

our weekly pay packets
are stretched far too far
and there is so little coinage
left in our saving's jars

phone and electricity bills
have our purses drained dry
living costs these days
on limited dollars do try
I'm sitting in the library before school,
talking and laughing like any other day
when you reach over and pick up
a book on overcoming anorexia.

You hold the nonthreatening orange-and-purple cover in your hands
that I once thought were gentle
and scoff, saying, "People with anorexia are so stupid."

Our friends sitting around us agree
and laugh and joke about it
while I sit in mute horror and suppressed panic
and dig my fingernails into my skin
until someone asks
why I'm not laughing.

Why am I not laughing?

I am not laughing at the disease
that consumed my life for nearly a year,
that ripped and clawed its way into my mind
and through my veins
like an addiction,
like a freight train gone off the tracks,
out of control and spinning
and uprooting everything crucial and meaningful
and burying it it flames,
turning it to ashes.

I am not laughing
at the nights I spent crying
and hating myself
while I felt the lining of my stomach
try to consume itself
in a poor replacement of the
sustenance I was denying myself
while I again dug my fingernails into my skin,
pins holding a dead butterfly
to its morbid display.

I am not laughing
at the thoughts that constantly filled my head
of death and disaster and pain
of wishing them upon myself
of making them happen
of letting myself shrink
and shed the space
that I believed I did not deserve to occupy.

I am not laughing at the thoughts
that after two years still plague me-
is my stomach sticking out?
do you really deserve breakfast?
your thighs are too big
your hips too wide
I count fewer ribs each day
you are fat
fatfatfatfatfatfat
worthless fat useless fat pathetic fat
you deserve to die
fat.

I am not laughing
at my choice
of slow suicide
that I made the
agonizing choice
to save myself from.

I am not laughing
at the book that I myself read
at every torturous bite of food I took
at every painful step of recovery.

I am not laughing
because I will not take away
every moment I felt strong for not relapsing,
every prayer I pled
every tear I shed,
every time I decided that I did not want to die
anymore.

I am not laughing.
I am leaving.
journal entry 12/5/13
i check my facebook page 36 times a day for the sole purpose of making sure i have not accidentally posted a **** photo of myself

i reread an email 13 times before pressing send to ensure i have not written something in the email that could convict me of a crime

if i ever end up taking a stage , when asked if i allow flash photography i always want to say “ no ” because i’m terrified flash photography will give me epilepsy
i know it doesn’t work like that , still

i never eat nuts on an airplane out of fear of that i will suddenly develop a nut allergy and if i have to asphyxiate
i don’t want it to happen at 30,000 feet

twice in the last two years i’ve been aborted from an airplane for running screaming down the aisles as the plane was taking off

i can’t walk through san francisco without worrying my indigestion is the beginning of an earthquake

i brace for tsunamis besides lakes in colorado
i’m not joking
the last time i saw niagara falls i couldn’t take it
it was too much much
i had to plug my ears to look at it and close my eyes to listen

generally i can’t do all my senses at the same time they are too much much

like if you touch me without warning , whoever you are , it will take everything i have to not hate you

imagine your hands are electrical sockets and i am constantly aware that i am 70% water
it’s not that i’ve not tried to build a dam


ask my therapist who pays her mortgage

my cost of living went up
at five years old when i told my mother i have to stop going to birthday parties because every time i hear a balloon pop i feel like i’m gonna get murdered in the heart


last year a balloon popped on the stage at a concert and i started crying in front of the whole crowd
plugged my ears and kept repeating the word “ LOUD LOUD LOUD LOUD ”
it was super ****

that’s what i have to do
super ****

like when i asked the super cute barista 11 times ‘ are you sure this is decaffeinated ? are you sure this is decaffeinated ? are you sure this ’ - YES
i drink decaffeinated and still jitter like a bug running from the
bright bright bright

i have spent years of my life wearing a tight rubber band hidden beneath my hair so my brain could have a hug


i only ever wear a tie so that when i convince myself
i’m choking my senses have something they are certain they can blame

as a kid i was so certain i would die the way of  meteor falling on my head
i would go whole weeks without looking at the sky
because i didn’t want to witness the coming of my own death

i started tapping the kitchen sink seven times to build a shield

my mother started making lists of everything i thought would **** me in hopes that if i saw my fears
they would disappear

bless her heart ,
but the first time i saw that list i started filling a salad bowl with bleach and soaking my shoe laces overnight
so in the morning when i ironed them they would be so bright i would be
certain i had control over how much dark could break into my light
how much jack hammer could break into my heart
my spine it has always been a lasso that could never catch my breath

i honestly can’t imagine how it would feel to walk into a room full of people and not feel the roof collapsing on my
‘ NO NO NO '

i am not fine

fine is the suckiest word
it never tells the truth

and more than anything i have ever been afraid of i am terrified of lies
how they war the world
how they sound by our tongues
how they bone dry the marrow

how did we get through high school without being taught dr. king spent two decades having panic attacks ?
avoided windows
jumped at thunder

i think we are all part flight the fight
part run for your life
part ‘ please please please like me ’
part can’t breathe
part scared to say you’re scared
part say it anyway

you panic button collector
you clock of beautiful ticks
you run out the door if you need to
you flock to the front row of your own class
you feather everything until you know you can always ,
always shake like a leaf on my family tree and know you belong here

you belong here and everything you feel is okay
**everything you feel is okay
this poem is for hkr .. and for anyone with anxiety
 Dec 2013 Tori Gadney
hkr
i used to drink your *******
until i realized
i got the same effect
by chugging whiskey
 Dec 2013 Tori Gadney
hkr
you could say the problem was
race; half white half japanese
you could say the problem was
passion; which never aligned
you could say the problem was
distance; a desert too vast to cross
but i say the problem was
love; because i loved you more
than i loved myself.
 Dec 2013 Tori Gadney
hkr
sleeping next to a boy
without sleeping with him
is just
awkward.
call it comic relief, call it frustration
 Dec 2013 Tori Gadney
SS
If I showed you my body bare
Through the shock, would you even care
That I stripped down layer by layer
Just to show you my innermost scares.

First is the very top layer
The girl with the messy dyed brown hair
The smiles and the laughter
Hiding all the pain that comes out after.

Second is the life of the party
Loud laughs, happy and hearty
Nothing to worry her pretty little mind
An empty, intoxicated mind.

Third is the loving pet-o-phile
That wants to travel from Paris to the Nile
Passionate shopper, day dreamer
But when she's angry, never meaner.

Fourth is the girl not many know
Called horrible things like a ***** and ***
She does not care about what they say
Waits all year for the two months after May.

Fifth is the bottle of open pills
And all she wants to do to herself is ****
The trust in life no longer there
The girl with the messy dyed brown hair.
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