my subject, mrs. ((brown?))
for this speech is
going to be: obesity. ish.

you see I remember
the article you handed out to us,
loos-leafed,
fresh-pressed,
a dry white piece that told,
in simplest terms,
the most inarguable & bland facts
about !healthy eating & !weight loss!

but mrs ((whatever)), I want
to tell n and the entire
******* crisp class,
that obesity is a load
of steaming ****
from someone who’s really fucki
ng sick (you know how much
better it stinks then)

that obesity
was made to be glorified,
I don’t tell you this—
I ****** jiggle it to you,
grab my santa clause puch and
shove it at you--

tick tock
we wait for the clock
to tell us what
s to come,
except it makes us guess

--see this:
a mid-age woman, mother,
fat & previously fat,
goes in for stabbing pain in the chest, or
chronic diarrhea,
seeing stars & no energy left.
((this happens))
the doctor says,

well let’s weigh you n see
if you’ve lost
the weight I told you to lose before
remember Sharol

now Sharol..,,,, sweety…..
you weigh 55.62 lbs over the
state-set “healthy limit”k,
so we’re just gonna give u these
diet pills & I promise they work,.
all nach-yer-awl u see, none of that
waterweight ******* [! excuse my language]

and in about 3 months you’ll lose
half that overweight,
and I promise the starsll go away and you’ll
feel right tip top okay now that’ll be
$60 & come bac k in a month to tell me
how much you’ve lost okay

haha but that’s alrightright?
she was unhealthy
&
doctors make you healthy

only her brain cancer maybe, or like, colon
cancer or literally anything other obesity

kills her in about 3 months
bc the **** doctor would only
pretend that she cared
what
was
wrong with Sharol, sweety…,,,

im sharol and so are you and
so is your uncle & so is
your mother, probably
because most of us are “obese”

& the only cure for obesity
is the cure for the term
“obesity” you see

spining spinnig spinning spinnging spinging spinining spinning spinning psinngin psinnging psinning spining psminnng psinng psing spinning itching tiching tiching itching itching ithcintign itching ithc nihting itching itching itching my chgest chest chet chest chets chest chesth ches thchc chest chest chestch sthech sethch schesth chesth seht esht eshthe sehches stghse tpanic panic panic panic itching panich painc itchingpainic pinaibng pinc ananc intching paning cnians pannigba sicthicn itcthing itching ithcing itching ithchi nhelp help help ehple help e helpe helpe helpe help help help ehlp ehlpe help ehple go waay away waway away away away aya away away away waya waya awaya waya away awaya no i don’t wnat o ts see ll you this coffee get the **** out of my ****** gface itching itchin gnaimial itching reage rage rage rrage gar eget the **** cis ssifi ficuking ishaf sisth ge tou to fmy fauck ceuang face te get out of my faucking *******  ******* **** ing ******* fuckng icing ******* fufking ******* tufkc thing face get the **** out of my face get the **** out of my face get the **** out of my face and leave me alone get the fucki out to foi my face and leave me alone spinning sinning range tulnnel vision tunnel spinning tiching cehst panic get out o fmy face i don’t want to sell you foccefe and you are n’t going to e to to to to to tip me anyway you ******* **** head yet the **** out of my afce and leave me the **** anlone i have n’t taken a break a break a brak breath in like like like twnety minutes breaht ebreathe breathe abreathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe don’t tell me to ******* breathe i know to ******* breathe rage rage rage rage tag r rage reag e aasdna breathe brathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe breahte breathe breathe breabdth rbreathe breathe breathe rbaein out in out in out in out in out in out in out in out in out in rythm rhythm rhtrm why the **** is that work word do so why the **** is that word so hard to spenl wp swhy the fu ck wiuy why the **** is that word si focukning hard to spell foeaajsdg why the **** is thwa why the **** is tha twor what why the **** is that word so hard to sle why the **** is that word os why the **** is that word so hard to spell rhyhtm rhyr rhythem rhythm tryhtm in out in ou to int out in tih rhythm rhytm tr intching itching itching ittchahinsdg in out in out outu ihn out in iuth out it ou th hei is this poetry hooray i wrote something go me look at all those words on the page i put thise there **** yeah go me hooray i was creative with my panic attack good for me good for ******* me now i guess the next step is to just go insatne and get drink run right horay hooray hooray three cheers for me i wrote something and it’s gonne anga nd id it’s gonna get me a million ******* dollars because i channeled ma my rf **** ing rage and that’s what epeople whatn ranwt ranw ran ran want wri sfsa tir right i it’s jurat rage riage rajfjs rb braeat breathe breathe breathe breathe breahte btrahet breathe i can’t ty e i can’t te i can’t tpye n d i can’t type ab ica i can’t type and breahte a ti ci  i can’t type and breathe at the samet ime i can’t tyime i can’t y i can’t type and breathe at the same to i can’t tiy i can’t type and breathe at the same timy i can’t ta i can’t type and breathe at the same time but maybe when i fguyre maybe when i figure out how to t mabye maybe when i figure out how to do that i’l act maybe bw maybe when i figure out how to do wh wm maybe wheni figure out how to do that i’ll write something that doesn’t make me want to **** myself but for now i detes i but forno but for now i detest ever ev but for now i want to stab every sing le but for now i want to strange but for now i want t o but for now i want to strangle every wrod that comes out ofmy ******* ******* useless garbage handss

It's been a while,
Since i drunk so much.
These days, my drug is just the smile,
I lay down, it's my new crutch.

I miss the days, that were softly red,
I miss the feeling of wanting dead.
My life is sore, but not so much more.

I wish, I wish I knew where to go.
Just sit in my calm place now, meadow.
It was all a lie, I told myself.
Instead, I put it on a higher shelf.

Do these feelings last?
Or do they simply pass.
I'm asking, not enquiring
something something requiring,
some strength and love,
is not enough, especially from above.

Was I always destined,
To be your friend or be your foe?
I do wish to answer, however, although....
I dont know, what to think no more.
I feel empty not just sore.


I feel like I've lost myself,
I ask for help I asked for help I ask for...
No more than the ordinary person.
Why can't I write how I used to?
Why can't I write only in pain.
Why can't I write when I'm feeling sane.
What is this curse?
What is this verse,
could it be any worse?
I feel so numb,
Down to my thumb.
I feel like I've lost my brain.

I feel so alone,
Yet I feel not alone.
I feel like I've lost again.

laugh imagine us but not us . like seperated by something like a mouth [i guess] with teeth sharp and eyes red and yellow surrounding ^suffocating me me me you plus me we could fuse in2 1 thing one being like an abs sense of it love only desire or the pavlov relfelx in ur [my] throat when u gag on me it with crying tears of blood and ***** on the carpet on mey feet nthne then they/ we we do it agian and aign and agn on the bed counter even floor ground til ur crying and i would 2 if i could i swear to god if i could eve-n ******* cnsdr HIM as real as that " i love u " but its mor of a question than an answer mor of a randm assmont of symbols (&_%etc) than a [CENSORED]. but her e u r. breathing my air nd wartring my skin with bruisez or pis.s ,tears ,blood just u u liquify and injeced into m y-v e in s .ha. ha ha ha. ... lafwith me cuz nothing is fucki n rea  a l . .  .  /  s oon .

You really need to eat something before you leave for work, Gena.
Do you want toast?
A hard boiled egg?
What can i get you?

(as the years pass, i find more and more words for the things my mom never said to me—the moss and the trees, God, the window in my bathroom that faces the street—i know what she really means now. i see all her flaws in myself. the feeling suffocates me; coats my skin like humidity. the guilt pierces like frostbite.)

You won’t get any skinnier, Genavive.
You look terrible
You look sick
Your clothes don’t look right on you anymore
What are you trying to do?
I want you to come home after work tonight.
Come home tonight please.

(i know now that no one else will protect me. you need to be selfish, and i want you to be. you only ever cry when im in earshot. i just want you to be happy. i will never forgive myself for not being able to make you proud. i will never become a mother because im just like you.)

I love you Gena.
Let us help you.
It's hard work but once you begin the journey you feel so much better.
You’re better than this.

(i show myself to my mother in my purest form. i show her all the ugly parts of me, the parts of me that are mean and awful. this is one of the few ways we’re unalike—she hides herself from me as best she can. she wears a mask that only i can tear off.)

(when i was younger, she always told everyone her only goal was to make me smarter than she was. she accomplished this quickly, and did it in a very literal sense—she prioritized knowledge over comfort. she made me smart; and paranoid, and vile. we creep around each other in the same way we both creep around mirrors. know she hates me like she hates herself, like her mother hates her.)

     we used to have a compost
     but the mice got bad
my mother and i have a conversation about hunger and wanting. i look at the menu for the pizza place they’re ordering from, open every tab on the website and look through every word. there’s not a thing on it that doesn’t make me sick to my stomach. i tell her i feel malnourished and lightheaded and afraid all the time, and i got some vitamins that will give me the nutrients i think i need, and some ensures, and i realize ive become a bit obsessive about that stuff. i tell her that it’s not on purpose. she tells me that at least im trying. she doesn’t say anything else. she picks a cucumber from the garden, one she grew all herself—the produce came up from dirt she packed with her own hands, the dirt where she planted the seed and watched it sprout and grow, watered it like clockwork. she cuts it longways and puts it on a plate, ends and stems and all, halves a lemon and drowns the cucumber in the juice. she puts it in front of me and walks away without saying a word (she has things to do, and she is nothing if not simple). i take it whole in my hands and bite it slowly. i take my time with it. i feel all the seeds in my mouth, getting caught in my teeth, feel the fatty fruit of the center on the roof of my mouth, the thick skin crunching between my teeth. i sit in front of the cucumber for hours, it feels like. i only end up eating half. the other half will rot in the fridge for weeks.

i believe my fatal flaw is leaving things unfinished.

saying the word female feels like spitting out garbage. it feels like the thick anticipation of swearing and waiting for a slap on the wrist.

my mom says there are some things i got from him i can’t escape. my mom says sometimes my eyes go black like my father’s.

i find myself wanting to create distance between myself and the soft parts of me. i inherited my violence from my father but my rage is anything but masculine—referring to myself as anything other than a woman feels like betrayal.

Fri, Jul 15, 2:54 AM
I've done all I know how to do gena...I'm sure you will figure it out and I will always be here. I'm going to take a step back for awhile...I will be out of town anyway for a few weeks.  Hope to see youbat breakfast at 10am tomorrow.  Of not enjoy your day.

Thu, Aug 4, 12:34 PM
It has to fucki g change...it has to...
It so heartbreaking

Sun, Aug 14, 4:04 AM
Can you please let me know you’re okay?..

Heavenly determination
Melody made
Of earthly pleasures
Treasures
Near my heart
Intentions of a man near
Death
With self centered
Under developed senses
Meant for sensory
Correction
In a class of eventual deception
Beyond mental cognitive
Correction
Deception like encrypted data
In a fit of stemming
Pleasure from a different
Member
Rendered useless till I wake up better
With a hospital attire
And moms spaghetti on my sweater
Ambition  of a devil
With a stellar over sweltering temptation
To take ***** in a cave
And save my life
And prevent the fate of man kind
From the overtake of satan's mind
Take my eyes
God made them nice
So Jordans name
Dont sayit twice
Jordan's legs are nice
His face is why
He had to break and rearrange
The frame of future past dated
Back to pre grade 5
And preceeding age 9
The 8 year old with great full eyes
Who escaped the date of age 29
With a name that goes both ways
A little lady spine
Save me a date to die
*** it's to late to escape the fate
I've made and put in slated
Truth I dont want to escape but I'm afraid that I
May change my mind
When they break my spine
And change my eyes.
My self expression explodes
From gods sense of humour
Explaining why.
I feel great but
They make humour of
The way I've tried
I cant take the times
Till jesus makes me find
Missing pieces
Of my love for life
And every time I fucki g hate my life
I changed your mind
You ******* hated mine
I'm going to take my time
It's ok and I
Know its pain justify
As okay and respectable
And I'm safe and fine
As long as I'm took serious
And made to cry
It's a tainted lie.
I've been made to die
So follow your plate with love
Laugh and live
And make every second
A destination. In the sands of time
And make each memory a magical
Dance with time.
You glance back in time
With happiness your going to outlast the times