But now…

Hearing his voice use to give her a calming serenity, but now she can’t bare to hear his voice.

Looking at his face use to bring her joy, but now she doesn’t have the courage to look up.

Feeling his touch use to give her goosebumps, but now she pulls away from his grasp.

Kissing his lips use to give her butterflies in her stomach, but now she can’t help but to hurt deep down.

Holding him use to be the only thing she wanted, but now she can’t be anywhere near him.

Being close was the one thing she needed, but now she can’t be within 3 feet of him.

Loving him was easy, simple, and natural, but now loving him is painful, hard, and torturous.

Friday Night Cutting

She started cutting that Friday night.

She could have asked for help,

She was talking to someone on Facebook,

But she decided not to ask.

She told him she was tired,

She had an energy burning day.

She said goodnight, and signed off.

But she should have stayed online.

She went up to her bedroom.

She changed into her comfy clothes.

She climbed into bed, sat there.

But she wasn’t alone in bed.

She brought an old beautiful friend.

She laid it down on her.

She pushed it into her skin.

But with a singular quick movement,

She was bleeding again, something forgotten.

She hasn’t done this so long.

She wanted to desperately remember again.

But her skin didn’t want to.

She couldn’t stop the red tears.

She couldn’t stop the radiating warmth.

She couldn’t stop the red diamonds.

But it eventually stopped. For now.

She Feels

She feels disgusted when he looks

At her young women native body.

She feels his lurking brown eyes

Watching her every move, every breath.

 

She’d feel his gawking at her.

His stares make her feel uncomfortable

She feels tortured, trapped deep within.

He stands there in his silence.

 

She feels all of her imperfections

He is gleaming toward her flaws.

She feels her face turning red.

He is seeing every blemish.

 

She feels exposed, bare, and naked.

He can see her fat body.

She feels him judging her body.

He gazes at her constantly.

 

She feels ugly, gross, and revolting.

But he still won’t look away.

She feels hard-featured, appalling, and unsightly.

He keeps watching her every action.

 

She feels like she should leave

His stare is withholding her movements.

She feels bottled up and restricted.

His eyes, dark chocolate, brown eyes.

 

She feels the courage to look,

He looks deep into her eyes.

She feels hooks of his eyes.

He can see her million defects.

 

She feels his revolting facial features.

He can’t look at her anymore.

She feels relief when he forestall.

He can see who she is.

Battery Operated

Her self-esteem is now battery operated.

People liking her picture on Instagram.

People sharing her posts on Facebook.

People retweeting her tweets on Twitter.

People rebloging her posts on Tumblr.

 

Her beauty is measured by likes.

Her humor is measured by shares.

Her sensitivity is measured by comments.

 

If she doesn’t get enough likes,

Shares or comments her self-esteem drops.

Nobody likes her, nobody really cares.

 

Our lives are becoming battery operated.

Without batteries we’re nothing, we’re nobody.

Without likes, comments, shares, we’re worthless.

Our lives are measured by programming.

Writing Prompts;

  1. Battery operated
  2. Family
  3. Suicide
  4. Star
  5. The remote’s gone
  6. The mystery gift
  7. I hate Christmas
  8. Teams
  9. Next year…
  10. Sticky tape
  11. He didn’t come
  12. Socks
  13. Secrets
  14. Too much
  15. In the closet
  16. So hot
  17. She didn’t?
  18. Until midnight
  19. The tree
  20. He is sober
  21. Too many people
  22. Online
  23. You won’t believe it
  24. #lessonlearnt
  25. Bless you
  26. Naughty
  27. The day after
  28. Water
  29. Puzzle pieces
  30. Feint
  31. 3, 2, 1…
  32. Heartbeat
  33. Wind
  34. Clarity
  35. Tweeted
  36. Holy
  37. The carpet
  38. Sculpted
  39. Dot, dot, dot
  40. No, you don’t
  41. Used tea bags
  42. Walk the dog
  43. It evaded me
  44. Water flowed
  45. The test results
  46. Just walk away
  47. Just another day
  48. Grass cuttings
  49. Her husband
  50. Rules change
  51. Hello
  52. You, again
  53. Distorted sounds
  54. Whispers
  55. Something was off
  56. Smoke
  57. Liar
  58. I have plans
  59. I turn the page
  60. In the fridge
  61. Her couch
  62. Unopened
  63. CD
  64. All gone
  65. Food
  66. Eye contact
  67. Dream-catcher
  68. Addict
  69. Dread
  70. Fear
  71. Shadow
  72. Sounds
  73. The sound of silence
  74. Insult
  75. Mirror, mirror
  76. Just say no
  77. Dear Diary
  78. Darkness
  79. Handle with care
  80. Name
  81. Where that place used to be
  82. Missing you
  83. Whispers
  84. Fairy tales
  85. Smile
  86. The Ex
  87. Fireworks
  88. Frozen
  89. Alone
  90. The promise
  91. Failure
  92. Mind and body
  93. What time is it?
  94. Clishe
  95. Complain
  96. I am..
  97. Oh so lonely
  98. Alphabetical
  99. Lair, lair
  100. Should, would could

Boys Will be Boys

Boys think it’s all about them.

Boys are allowed to do anything.

Boys can do anything they want.

Gils are supposed to shut up.

Girls have to take what’s given.

Girls do not have any say.

Boys think girls dress for them.

Boys think girls are their belongings.

Boys think girls have to listen.

Girls can’t think that it’s wrong.

Girls can’t think he’s not allowed.

Girls can’t think, speak, or move.

Boys are allowed to bug girls.

Boys are allowed to hit girls.

Boys are allowed to touch girls.

Girls are not allowed to protest.

Girls are not allowed to reject.

Girls are not allowed to feel.

Boys can do what they want.

Boys can do anything they want.

Boys can think what they want.

Girls can’t do what they want.

Girls can’t do what boys can.

Girls can’t do anything about it.

Boys are stronger, better, and smarter.

Boys are encouraged, accepted, and extraordinary.

Boys are curious, adventurous, and idealistic.

Girls are weak, unopinionated, and stupid.

Girls are silent, unable, and pathetic.

Girls are ignorant, disrespectful, and unfit.

Boys are allowed to be boys.

Boys are allowed to say anything.

Boys are allowed to speak up.

Girls aren’t allowed to be girls.

Girls aren’t allowed to say anything.

Girls aren’t allowed to speak up.

Boys don’t worry about any consequences.

Boys don’t worry about girls speaking.

Boys don’t worry about significant abuse.

Girls worry about not being believed.

Girls worry about being shut upped.

Girls worry about being rapped, abused.

Parents make excuses for their boys.

Teachers defend the boys in school.

Authorities believe the boys with anything.

Parents discourage their girl’s outspoken words.

Teachers give girls punishments with everything.

Authorities don’t believe in the girls.

Fat

She can’t look in her mirror,

She can’t look at herself anymore.

She can’t look at her body,

She can’t look at her face.

She hates when her legs touch.

She hates when her stomach shows.

She hates when her arms move.

She hates when her butt’s bulging.

Her legs touch, shake while walking.

Her legs are dry and bleak.

Her legs are wide and thickset.

Her legs are stocky and stubby.

Her stomach is potbellied and husky.

Her stomach is jiggly and wiggly.

Her stomach is bulging and plumply.

Her stomach is oversized and swollen.

Her arms are roly-poly and blabby.

Her arms are fleshy and chunky.

Her arms are flabby and overabundance.

Her arms are blubber and beefy.

Her butt is lumpy and bumpy.

Her butt is irregular and uneven.

Her butt is stout and blucky.

Her butt is pudgy and hefty.

She grabs fat on inner thighs.

She pulls handfuls of her stomach.

She pinches her under arm flubber.

She squeezes her butt to smaller.

She stretches for smaller inner thighs.

She drinks tea for smaller stomach.

She exercises for smaller, thinner arms.

She walks for smaller, rounder butt.

Suicide

March 27th, 2014. Teenage suicide attempt.

She swallowed 82 Ibuprofen with water.

Along with phenazopyridine, an old subscription.

With the pain she was experiencing

It seemed to call for medication.

Medication will hopefully numb the pain.

It is her final, last resort.

Slowly feeling her stomach start disintegrating.

As her stomach lining started thinning

She was waiting for the end.

Getting dizzy unable to walk properly.

Walking around almost as if drunk.

Her mind unable to focus straight.

She was unable to wait anymore.

She finally told him about everything.

He brought her to get help.

They called an ambulance for her.

They asked questions she couldn’t answer.

She was close to falling asleep.

Fighting the darkness and the unconsciousness.

Laying on a gurney leaving school.

On her way to the hospital.

The paramedic looking for her veins.

Unable to find them do to

Ibuprofen thins blood making it difficult.

Paramedic kept missing the thin veins.

Finally was able to find one.

Laying on the gurney inside waiting.

Falling in and out of unconsciousness.

Waiting for the doctor and nurse.

Her lips becoming blue and purple.

But her body overheating within seconds.

Sweating through clothing and gurney sheets.

Her hearing slowly started to disappear.

She was unable to hear anyone

She couldn’t even hear herself speak.

Family

What if her family ever knew?

What would they do with her?

What would they say to her?

The deep lines on her thigh

The deep burns in her arm

The bones showing under her clothes

She has to be careful always

She has to always watch herself

She has to think everything through

Getting caught could ruin every thing

Getting found could spoil her world

Getting fix could hurt her soul

Without it she has nothing left

Without it she can’t breath easy

Without it she don’t know anything

With it she can do anything

With it she’s everything she wants

With it she has the world

Things That Make Her Happy

  • Getting through the day without eating.
  • Deep cuts that last a lifetime.
  • The feeling of all her scars.
  • The numbness on a dull body.
  • Feeling the warm blood drip down.
  • Putting the mental pain into physical.
  • The relief after one single cut.
  • Realizing she’ll never truly be happy.
  • Feeling the knife in her hand.
  • The demons that keep her company.
  • The feeling while the lighter burns.
  • Pencil sharpener blade on bare skin.
  • Finding new ways to become skinny.
  • The brightness of a new cut.
  • The blade getting through her skin.
  • Red hot metal on her skin.
  • Getting to peel off a scab.
  • Putting marks on her fresh skin.
  • Being able to breath after cutting.
  • Her stomach craving for some food.
  • The smoke filling up her lungs.
  • Grabbing onto a blade that cuts.
  • The beauty of bright red blood.
  • Tricking people with her fake smiles.
  • Drinking until she is finally numb.
  • Being able to deepen a cut.
  • Putting her body through the pain.
  • The beauty of fresh running blood.
  • Making sure blood doesn’t get everywhere.
  • Knowing it’s a good cut.
  • Watching the scale’s numbers go down.
  • Finding that her thighs don’t touch.
  • The beauty of pain she created.
  • The clarity of holding broken glass.
  • The feeling of breaking into flesh.
  • Seeing broken glass on the street.
  • Hiding fresh new cuts from everyone.
  • The burning sensation in the throat.
  • The salty taste of her tears.
  • Deepening the cuts on her thigh.
  • Feeling the cuts on her wrist.
  • Praying to feel some pain today.
  • Fitting into that perfect skinny outfit.
  • Noticing her scale numbers drop down.
  • Finally reaching her weekly weight goals.
  • Feeling free after cutting a few.
  • Not falling asleep to burn calories.
  • Being able to feel her bones.
  • Being able to see her bones.
  • Not being tempted by any foods.
  • Drinking tea and eating nothing else.
  • Feeling the pain after burning and cutting.
  • Being able to smile through pain.
  • Avoiding all people, especially eating people.
  • Making marks that cause bad pain.
  • Adding onto all the old scars.
  • People believing her that she’s okay.
  • Being able to ignore other’s eating.
  • Nobody noticing she’s cutting and burning.
  • Being able to say she succeeded.
  • The shininess of fresh red blood.
  • When she can keep everything clean.
  • Holding the light knife in hand.
  • Blood beads look like little diamonds.
  • The sparkles on the knife’s blade.
  • Feeling that it’s a deep cut.
  • After the fifth cut, she’s numb.
  • The depth of a new cut.
  • The tingles of a new cut.
  • Drinking until she forgets the pain.
  • Getting the nerve to cut deep.
  • Getting the nerve to burn skin.
  • Hot water on her frozen hands.
  • The beauty in holding her life.
  • Helping others to not feel pain.
  • Turning her mental pain into physical.
  • Creating artworks with knifes and skin.
  • Cutting creates a week of pain.
  • Marking body as much as mind.
  • Tingling after feeling the hot flame.