unlovenot all self harm comes
in the obvious form of lines up arms or down thighs
of throwing up insides and self worth
into toilet bowls with the sounds
that make you wonder how you're not dead.
she picked at her lips constantly
cracking and splitting
peeling and bleeding
more than expected
and it bled
more than ever anticipated
even after she's been doing it all day
she drank her tea that was still steaming
still made her hands flinch from the
far too hot porceline
but she parted lips
and felt it force it way down
burning and splitting
her lips and throat
like molten in her
ash filled stomach
pulling on skin
making underneath it
her blood like water colour
exploding and spreading
and mixing over
thighs and stomachs
no-one thinks to notice
.i avoid the eyes of people when i'm nervous
stare at spaces in between their eyelids
and let the conversation fade
i don't know where to let my eyes rest
when you appear
in my head
around my bones
there's nowhere to look
except through you
cheap whisky.instead of exchanging numbers
we exchanged horror stories
and compared our
[yours down your side
mine up my arms]
when i looked at you from a distance
i thought maybe you could
cut me open with
[but you never were
and your eyes were as empty
as the bottles that we
clutched to gain the silver
that traced our bodies
[but the rest of you was full
you said that there was lead in my veins
and you brought it to the boil
and i sat there burning
with bugs being drawn to me
[my destruction was more beautiful
than i ever could be]
i remember you hit me once
and it stung like cheap vodka
i told you i loved you
and slept for a year
[i wasn't going to be enough tonight
and you weren't interested.]
i know now that god is dead
i tired praying silently
i tried screaming it
until the sun rose again
he wasn't listening]
when i woke
they were all around me
cramming their apologies
down my throat
[i knew then
counterweightsometimes, late at night when it felt as if the weight of the world was
pressing down on her chest she imagined what it would be like to be
curled up in his arms. it pushed and pulled at muscle and sinew and left
her aching from the inside out until her skin was blooming with purple
and blue watercolour bruises. she longed. ached for him until something
in her head snapped and she remembered clearly again. she remembered the
softness of his lips, the delicate slope of his jaw. she remembered the
feel of him pressed against her, all soft skin and teasing warmth. more
than that, she remembered how it felt to be nestled in his arms.
remembered it so vividly that she feared her heart might burst because
it wanted it again so badly.
she had left stories in the ridges
of his skin, half thought out poems and words hidden in his eyes, that
she'd hoped one day he'd find them and his heart might fill with
something it was missing. and for the shortest moment she'd let her
guard down and crumble.
trembling knees.don't give up now.
i know that sometimes the floor seems more comfortable when you're curled in the tightest ball you can muster, or that your knees don't work quite right. you wonder if you'll ever stop aching in a way you can't ever describe, and i'm sorry to tell you that you won't ever learn to describe that. you'll get better. you'll find peace.
cause he's not fucking worth it.
and i know its more than that, i know its all piled up on your shoulders, and tangled your stomach and lungs and entire insides into a knot, and that you never were co-ordinated enough to untangle even your necklaces. let alone your internal organs. but keep drinking the tea, it won't solve it, but it will keep you warm enough that death can't touch you.
listen to the stupid man, don't let them take you alive.
yes it hypocritical, yes it makes you feel small and insignificant and fucking useless. but just shut up and listen. if it worked but then, it will work now. in a years time you'll have him on your sk
to kingdom come.theres something that stains my bones the darkest shade and leaves even
the warmth of your fingertips unable to reach me any more than skin deep.
its like my pinks have thickened, hardened, or just completely lost all
feeling somewhere inbetween the forth and the fifth break or lapse in judgement.
but you whispers melodies or spells into my ears at night that rest and seep
into my skin, and after a month of moons they leave a lightness in my bones
that i carries with me in my heart and in the corners of my lips. and its something
so much more than any of poetic words can ever describe, and its stuck in
chest with a heaviness that i don't want to be there, because this is the lightest
and brightest thing i've ever felt.
and i would say this is new to me, but its not anymore.
cause its been nearly 6 years and i still don't understand how this isn't sinking in.
i know your skin better than my own, and my hands have mapped all the curves and
i've traced the outline of your lips in the grai