ED

I’ll be doing fine.
I’ll be able to stand on the scale and see the number and be okay.
I’ll look in the mirror and love what I am, not hate what I am not.

but then.

But then I eat something
and all of a sudden I am
larger than life; I am too big
for my clothes, too big to
be loved, too big for myself.

and then

i want to be gone.
i want to be anyone or anything
but who i am.
i want to shrivel up and
die
because my self hatred weighs
on me
far heavier than the number on the scale,
and it is too goddamn big.

the hopelessness that
i will forever have this body
that i hate is suffocating
me.
let
me
suffocate.

Sticks and Stones

I remember the first time I saw her
drop to the floor and crack
and spill,
and I knew I had been lied to.

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words can also hurt me.

And when he said i’m sorry,
and like a panacea
cured the dew in her eyes, i thought
there was a way to fix the soul’s broken bones.
and so i learned to serve
everything in my life with a side of
i’m sorry.

I don’t want to… i’m sorry.
I can’t…. i’m sorry.
I don’t like that…. i’m sorry.
i’m sorry, but I disagree.

And in trying so hard
to make sure everything that left
the assembly line of my mouth
was a gentle breeze, in
wrapping people in i’m sorry’s to protect them
in case they fell, i left myself
exposed, and (i’m sorry)
covered in bruises.

Fire Escape

Do not ignite a fire in my heart
unless you have an emergency
escape because
once I feel the flames,
I will shut down and my eyes
will no longer be tunnels to
my soul.
I will hold you hostage
until I’m whistling like a tea kettle;
until all the pressure and heat
turns your diamond memories to
coal.

Needle & Thread

You tore me apart at the seams a little, and I am learning to stitch myself back together.

You Were Always On Your Toes

it’s so empty in here,
the gods cannot find anything
to echo.
your toes are still in the sand
(you were always on your toes)
as you reach up to kiss
the burnt sky.

Higher Love

I do not need my hands to touch
you, love.
Your heartbeat is in your
words: the reverberation of
your being, which
pulses in my bones.

Just Friends

When we say goodbye,
I always stop short before
I instinctively fill the space where
I love you used to be;
like someone ripped out
the last page of a book, leaving
it unfinished.

It feels so unnatural to say goodbye
like that–like standing at the edge
of a cliff.

If

if i can forget
my best friend’s birthday,
my ex’s phone number,
a drunken night,
then maybe I
will forget
you, too.

I Can Feel The Distance

The way the wind’s blowing, we are
between autumn and winter, you see.
We are
falling apart from each other,
we are
decaying debris
that will soon be buried and
forgotten underneath white.