i never liked the color red

my emotions make themselves known by pumping my blood faster and faster until my breath can’t keep up any longer and my head seems to forget its place during the day is under the sun, not rested on a pillow in my blackened room

my emotions spiral themselves around the bagel i brought myself to eat and i can’t help but wonder how it would be to live without an urge to reintroduce my finger to my throat and let them dance around for awhile

my family says to control my emotions but i keep letting my emotions control me until they burst out of my dirt-colored eyes, creating a muddy monsoon that sweeps up any sliver of hope and rushes it away with all of the people who tell me i’m a liability

maybe the problem is me because my days of the week pill container is full of chemical happiness but my heart remains empty, longing for the days when my nervous system did not rely on prescriptions to stay alive

as i resist the temptation to let my anger swallow me whole, my lilac manicured nails fight the urge to make drawings on my skin that has been broken too many times to remember

my emotions continue to control me
and i don’t want to remember any of it at all.

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full circle

nine years old
plaid skirt, polo shirt, knees bent in the pew
worshipping something so ambiguous
my mind could not understand the unconditional love my god was suppose to bestow on me, because i had not seen it anywhere else
there was something oddly comforting about this, something i lost when my brain decided to turn inside out on itself

ten years later, i pass the pretty brick churches with the witty signs, and wonder if
maybe
i could belong there again, too

for my heart yearns for a sense of belonging but my scattered-brain and clawed up arms can’t imagine a community built on the foundation of faith wanting to accept someone who had lost that at the tender age of fourteen

i never thought my weary eyes and skepticism would want to find a god again
i don’t know how this journey looks for me but i can promise you, it will be on my terms this time around
i will not allow my experiences to make me hard.

sweet dreams

there is no scarier feeling than laying in a blackened room with nothing but my delusions to lay beside me
laying there thinking that my dreams will be heaven but here i am, stuck in purgatory
i am swallowed whole by the thought that my yesterdays were a daydream and my present is a nightmare
my future haunts me yet it’s all i want

staring at the swivel of the fan,
i lose all reality
i forget my favorite things and an all too familiar monster snuggles against me
here i am,
alone
yet with so much unwanted company

and with burdened eyes, i lye there unable to control the spirals
slowly, i fall into heaven

failure

it’s the one thing that makes even the most esteemed people shake like autumn leaves, ready to crumble
my bar is as high as the airplane in the sky i’d love to take to get away from myself
and if i’m not doing flips and leaps higher than it, i’d rather sink deep into an ocean full of all the things i do not want
i can do better.
i can always do better.
but what happens when better is never enough?
i fly to the moon, but all i see is that i didn’t explore the whole galaxy
and that’s all you see, too.

distance no. 2

there is a beautiful river around the bend
i sit and stare at its relaxed waves, crashing like the soft whispers he and i have shared here
this is where it all began

i remember the night sitting under the stars, a chilly wind caressing my body while he slipped his arm around my back
and i think about how i leaned onto his shoulder
before i knew it, his lips were on mine and my heart was dancing
actually, it still hasn’t stopped

i think about sitting in this same spot and giggling with pizza-filled bellies, when he tells me about his old home on the small street with the park at the end, how he wants to take me there

there we were again, sitting under the dazzling stars, talking about the things that make us cry
he looks over at the flowing river, moonlight reflecting on the dark calm waters, when he turns his hazel eyes to mine
he looks at me like his whole world is in front of him and tells me he’s been falling
that he’s fell
he whispers those three words in my ear and tears start falling down my beaming face, caressing my cheeks like the cold breeze that first night

and now i sit here, and i’ve returned those words thousands of times to his patient ears
but i can’t help but think about how this beautiful river where our love blossomed
is also the water
that separates us

19

i am from pigtails and plaid skirts and penny loafers with a lucky penny slipped inside
i am from therapy sessions and pill bottles stacked up in the closet

i am from sleepovers and ice cream dates and striving for perfect scores
i am from wet pillowcases and puffy morning eyes

i am from long walks with good music and running to pound away my thoughts
i am from scales and calculating the caloric value of a grape

i am from family dinners with jeopardy as background noise
i am from grieving three losses and praying i wouldn’t be the next

i am from writing and target runs and sleeping til noon
i am from whispers and name calling and sweeping sorrows under the perfect expensive rug

i am from shopping and reality tv and historical debates
i am from covering up the damage i have done to myself with sleeves and a smile

i am from the light and the dark
i am from always waiting for the sun

dear life

There are no words in any language to describe the feeling I get in my chest, like something awful is happening even though I’m halfway through a laugh with my friends.

I hate the way my throat grows a lump big enough that I swear it could crush my entire body. Sometimes I wish it would, because God knows it’s already crushing my spirit.

I’ll never understand how I can stare at a wall and feel so empty, so hollow, yet feel everything all at once. Underwhelmed yet overwhelmed by life at the same time.

I don’t know how I can sit across from a person every week, protected by four comforting walls and a promise, divulging every nook and cranny of my mind, yet still feel like I am losing control.

I can’t comprehend why it brings me comfort to cause my body pain. How a sting can feel like relief. Like the hurt is flowing out of me, yet regret and disappointed rage in.

And so the cycle continues.

gravity

my whole life,you’ve wanted me smaller

my ambition is too much
my thighs are too much
my brain is too much

you try and try to shrink me
but i refuse to get in your box

i can only imagine how much you hated that i made you heavy
weighed down
burdened

you carried me those nine months
but i’ll carry this demon a lifetime

             -i’m sorry, mom