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 Dec 2014 Violet
fdg
When I was younger my best friend's sister asked me why my thighs were so much bigger than hers and without missing a beat I scrunched my eyebrows and said, "because my legs are so much stronger."
Since then my self-image is every teenage girl's sob story of not enough this or that, too much one way, too much in general
(i **** in my stomach when you put your arm around my waist)
and I've been trying to tell myself it's strength that matters,
but sometimes jutting bones seem like they'd hold up a little more than the flab of my stomach, like they'd put up a better fight against the sharp looks I'd give myself in the ******* mirror,
and maybe that's why I went from cutting my fleshy thighs to cutting my hip bones because **** my hip bones for being the only bones that weren't covered in fat.
I used to tell myself it'd be easy to skip every meal in exchange for 2 almonds and occasionally a piece of deli-cut turkey, I used to try for days to cut down on acceptable portions, and some days I'd win and I'd eat nothing and sometimes I'd win more and not think about it.
I used to try so hard to wrap my fingers around my ribs or to get my friends to stop saying my *** looked huge ("in a good way") but I was taught when young that overeating was okay because I'd sit at my plate until I swallowed everything that was given to me. I'd sit in the dark on nights I couldn't chew my chicken fast enough, since day 1 I've been a bad eater. I'd get yelled at for being full and now I'm always full but still eating and bones still seem stronger than my jiggly thighs and no, i can't wrap my fingers around my ribs, but if i **** in enough, i can see the outline
lol. i'm alright with my ***, and my **** isn't bad, i think, but bones are so cool sometimes i'd like to see a little more of them
 Nov 2014 Violet
Anna Elise
You're going to throw up
leaving. change. panic. fear.
You can't breathe
why. how. don't. please.
You're having a heart attack
alone. forever. helpless. trapped.
You're dying*
can't. stop. please. help.
You´re fine*
....oh
 Oct 2014 Violet
fdg
the first boy that kissed me without any warning
now kisses a girl that used to be my best friend
he shoved his tongue in my mouth while i was crying
i laughed and said, "this doesn't count"
got on my bike and rode away

the first boy i willingly kissed
i broke up with after letting him finger me for a year without any blow jobs in return (eventually i was comfortable enough with the idea, but ****, how awful of me)
and the summer after he cried over me he got back with his ex
(i was the mistake in the middle of them)

the boy that i kiss now
makes me bite my lip
and i miss him every second he's not around
because this love makes me hysterical
and i never really know what to say at the right time in the right way
so i just press my palm to his face
and hope he gets the message
 Oct 2014 Violet
fdg
sometimes my eyes droop and my vision gets blurry,
my lungs lag and my flesh gets tingly,
sometimes i feel my heart beat in my throat
and every time i touch my skin it feels like it's peeling off
sometimes life feels like a dream
and i can't tell what is reality
 Oct 2014 Violet
rained-on parade
Why can't we have meaningless talk
the way people have meaningless ***-
you would crash over me into a
river of un-scathing emptiness
and leave marks on my skin-
stories that this was where
you started to tear at
the seams
effortlessly
like the silkness
of your sorrows on my floor.

You would become a sultry verse
in this anthology of every day
lodged between the rush and
vacancy of broken hearts
and anguished limbs.

You would radiate the heat
of your angry, angry heart onto
the cold deadness of mine,
and we could burn and melt
all at the same time.

Meaninglessly you would leave
me out of breath,
gather your clothes
and go home.
These days I could only wish my heart could ride over this storm. Meaninglessly.

The first "bold" poem.
 Oct 2014 Violet
fdg
have i used this line already?
it makes sense because really i can't stop thinking about the rain on his windshield and how the drops sounded while the smiths were playing,
how good it felt to be kissed in his passenger seat,
it feels like it was a lifetime ago,
and i lied,
this is a poem about a boy
this is a poem about a boy
this is a poem about a boy

i hope i always remember your car doors and rain
eh ****, how do you write, and does it matter
 Oct 2014 Violet
lulu
wordless
 Oct 2014 Violet
lulu
no words are coming out
for i've suppressed it for too long
and now,
they have lost their way
and they have no way out
i'm trying but nothing's coming out.
 Oct 2014 Violet
wordvango
postulate carnivals festivities ferris wheels unicorns
tooting horns laughs squeals of carnivorous
joviality held breath heights scary games of chance
winning all today
it is our day
to  populate reality
with
fairy tales or obliviate insanity send notice
from highs cry together deny no more the obvious
sobriety holding in that hit wary of getting caught
losing it all
so say with me
I believe
in fairy tales
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