A Rough Couple of Years

It’s been a rough series of events,
Over the past few years.
And I’m only sixteen.
Sixteen ain’t so sweet.
Neither were fifteen, fourteen, or thirteen.

In fifth grade, I found bulimia.
Two years later,
Anorexia and I were best friends.

In eighth grade, I lost myself.
And took 200 Advil,
To find myself, of course.

Then they told some lies,
that I didn’t tell them.
Which took my father
Away from me.
Then he came back.

But the next year, I recovered
From my battles with food. Against it.
It was the hardest thing
That I had ever done.

A few months after that,
Some guy named Dan
Knew how weak I was,
When even I didn’t know.
That was the end of my childhood.
I had transformed into a victim.

Two months later,
I relapsed with food.
And was admitted to a psych ward.
Oh, the psych ward.

There, they told me I was Bipolar.
But medication would fix everything.
So I took their fucking medication,
And eighty pounds later,
I threw them under my bed.

Now I’m stuck.
With the issues with food,
The thoughts that I don’t act on,
The nightmares about Dan,
His hands all over my body.
And the eighty pounds.
Which I think are killing me the most.

It’s been a rough series of events,
Over the past few years.
And I’m only sixteen.
Sixteen ain’t so sweet.
Neither were fifteen, fourteen, or thirteen.

Three Little Words, Nine Little Letters

Three little words, Nine little letters

I’ve been told that silence is the essence of pain.
And that sometimes it’s simply impossible to be sane.

I never believed them, the clichés that had been used.
But then again, I had never been so invisibly bruised.

Silence is the essence of pain and keeping my truths inside
is destroying my life and drowning me in lies.

I know it’s unconventional, for me to want to tell you.
And I’m fully aware that it’s possible you already knew.

But I needed to hear me say the words in my own tone,
and for someone to hear them besides me alone.

This isn’t something that I want many to know,
And I understand that this is quite a secret to bestow.

Please understand that I’m trusting you not to expose,
But also that it’s supposed to help when someone else knows.

I chose you because you’ve always listened to what I’ve said,
and because you never judged the chaos in my head.

After you know, I’m praying that I won’t change in your eyes,
and I’m confident that you’d be there if I needed you to advise.

I’m not divulging because I want pity or you would want to hear,
rather that I need support and understanding that’s sincere.

So I’ll straighten my posture, force my shoulders back,
and take the deepest breath I’ve had since before the attack.

I’ll open my mouth, and will my vocal cords will vibrate,
Even though I’m ready, don’t be surprised if I hesitate.

Maybe you won’t understand, it’s just three little words to utter,
but those nine letters will be the hardest I’ve ever had to stutter.

My lips will part, and I’ll forget to exhale
long before my battle with words will prevail.

But with the exhalation comes a reminder of your trust,
and I start to cry, and you won’t understand, it’s just…

I
was
raped.

My Silence Lies

My mouth remains closed
for fear of
what will come out
when it is opened.
my silence says that
there is nothing to say
worth saying,
and everything is fine
that needs to be.
but my silence lies.
my silence makes me
the victim, and
my confession would
give me the strength
of a survivor.
but maybe i don’t want
to survive.
maybe that kind of
survival hurts too much.
my silence says that
there is nothing to say
worth saying.
my silence lies.

Defines Me

My imperfections define me,
But my past binds me,
Tightly.

I’m stuck in a moment long ago,
That won’t let me go,
Free.

I wake up in the middle of the night,
Shaken and sweating with fright,
Inside.

He took from me what I wouldn’t give,
But what I would give to be able to live,
Again.

I curse his name, his living being, his life,
But I curse my own more, for allowing this strife,
To me.

I’m stuck in a dilemma, with my mouth closed,
Unable to reveal why I’m so opposed
To life.

My imperfections define me,
But my past binds me,
Tightly.

My Forehead

my forehead
is a sweet caramel
with wisps of hazelnut hair
hanging over it.

my forehead
is where my father puts an “L”
and my mother
puts her kisses.

my forehead
has no writing on it.
but I swear
it might as well.

my forehead
says that its owner
is lonely
and has lost hope.

my forehead
says that I’m
not who I say I am
and that I’m much less.

my forehead
says that this girl
is a rape victim
and afraid of everything.

my forehead
says that my
eating disorder never left
and my soul never returned.

my forehead
posts my insecurities
and ridicules
all of my faults.

my forehead
says that passing cars
beg me to jump
in front of them.

my forehead
says none of this.
but when I look in your eyes,
I swear that it does.

Lost Pieces

The first night on vacation, as I relaxed with some girls,
Then it was fabulous, and now it makes my toes curl.

Arrogance drowned me as he walked in the entrance,
Caught my eye, and as he was caught in a trance.

While requested my name, and offered his vodka,
I learned really fast that he was a sweet-talker.

He asked if I wanted to accompany his stroll,
How was I to know this would take its toll.

He helped me stand up, and held open the door,
Hand slipped around my waist, and promised a tour.

Watching the waves crash off of the boat,
Then to a deserted corner, on top of his coat.

We sat holding hands, talking, sipping his drink.
His compliments turned my cheeks a deep shade of pink.

A pause in the conversation, he held my hand tighter,
His eyes grew serious, with a flame from my lighter.

I realize now that I should have run to never look back,
But then it was a hesitance toward men that I lacked.

I saw a glint in his eyes, as he had me pinned to the deck,
Made me feel jaded, like he wanted to make me a wreck.

He planted an unwelcome kiss upon my lips,
As I screamed out protest at the thrust of his hips.

He said that I asked for it, as he zipped up his pants,
Then ordered me to get up, as it was time to get back.

My feet couldn’t move fast enough to where I was staying,
One glance in the mirror showed me what was portraying.

No shower could cleanse the filth he left on my territory,
And I could never gain back when he had stolen from me.

I’ve been broken, like mother’s crystal wine glass I tossed.
Shattered, and put together, some pieces have been lost.

I beg you please, keep your eyes to yourself.
Don’t look at me, when I can’t look at myself

Reversal of the Irreversable

weighed down with all the pain inside
but no one knows the tears she’s cried

night after night they poured down her face
all that is broken can never be replaced

tear by tear her self worth fell to the ground
mascara and her heart both fell down

the loneliness was slowly eroding her pride
everyone was told she was fine, but she lied

didn’t want to burden them with how she was feeling
disassociating from life was how she kept dealing

but then one day it all seemed to hit her fast
and she knew this one day had to be her last

the screams the tears echoed in her head
she pounded her fists down into her bed

only could see how she was a problem, a fake
yeah well now the world was just too late

she finally opened up and told what was true
knowing full well what she was going to do

chocolate bars, downing them more and more
then she went to the bathroom and closed the door

with one finger she could reverse her eating
it wasn’t the same with her heart’s beating

so she stared in the mirror looking at her hate
and she finalized her destiny with no debate

then opened up the bottle, her hands shaking
and then one by one the pills she was taking

counting each and every white pebble
release from this hell just seemed incredible

then she laid down on her bedroom floor
and thought about living life no more

she began to feel dizzy, and feel unstable
then to wonder if maybe she was actually able

then shooed it right out of her mind
and focused on the decreasing amount of time

the last thing she thought of before she passed out
was the one who cared what she was really about

this fueled her desire to try to live
and she got up with everything she had to give

halfway through her attempt to save
everything here went back into a haze

and she fell down, hitting the wall
she sunk and sunk, forgetting it all

the paramedics saved her that night
just before she reached her perceived delight

and she was able to see all who were there
they had a second chance to display their care

because the first time around she couldn’t see
but this newfound belief helped her to be

and now to look back and see with fright
what would have happened if she succeeded that night

Take What You Need

i’ll give you everything i’ve got
if you take what you need,
and give what you’ve got
to help someone else succeed.
lift your head up high,
take your finger off rewind,
push play, take it in,
and pay it all forward in time.
take a hammer to your mask.
break away from the lies,
past the truth as we know it-
into honesty’s faithful skies.
rise above life on life’s terms,
tell yourself the lies you’ve told,
how they were all “for the best”
then think about who’s soul you sold.
have you taken what i had,
did you get what you craved?
and did you throw yourself out,
to someone drowning to be saved?

You’re No Exception

no matter how close they become,
there’s still a string undone.
soon you’ll will be closer than relation,
but the truth will always need an explanation.

you’re just a little rough around the edges,
balancing on your mind’s ledge.
you tell me more than words can say
is it true, or just slightly cliche?

you’ve absorbed my vibes like a sponge.
you’ve seen the risk, and you’ll take the plunge.
quality is all in the mind’s perception,
and looking at you, you’re no exception.

considering this, i’d take a bet
if what you see is what you get,
and what you get is what you supply-
then when i see you, i’ll give this heart of mine.

but not every gift is taken with pleasure
and not everything needs to be measured.
but if i was to measure your pleasure right now,
id guess you’re heart will be mine somehow.

What If

what if i’m not
your average girl?
what if i’m fucked up
and its not the world?
what if i’m a lie
and lost underneath it all?
what if i’m falling
and i won’t survive the fall?
what if my past is just
a part of my creation?
what if this disaster is just
a result of my frustration?
what if i’m a prisoner
within my own self?
what if i can’t get out
‘cause i don’t know anything else?