i feel...

dirty.

hotel california

it's weird...
like i've gone a long way
from not only home
but everyone i know
away from my past and my ghosts
and i have gained freedom...
but...
i am not free
i took on the ghosts and pasts
of many new people

nothing is better
it's just different

bleeding so bad

hurts so fucking good.

thoughts on thinking

so fucking shallow
you are the water that laps at my ankles
stroking my bones with your chilling
coldness.
i will dive into you
maybe you will hear me then
hear me and listen
listen and understand
that i don't seek help
i seek attention
as i lap at your own feet
no fucking focus no ears
kick me in the face while i'm down there
just like last night too.


you would say this to anyone because you love everyone
i just
want
to
be
special.

and so I thought to myself, 'Self,'

I hate you so much
I hate how when I look in the mirror
I see your fat rolls
your bug eyes
flawed skin
cut scars
bloody fingernails
fat fat fat!

and yet
when I'm out and about
I can never seem to remember
how much I hate you
so I fucking feed you all this
shit
like you deserve it or need it

and I hate how you moved
to a place where you get free food
and have to use a public restroom
where it's so fucking awkward
to use those laxatives I packed for you
or throw up that shit I fed you earlier

so this cut
this slice
is a little reminder
maybe tomorrow I won't fucking forget
maybe tomorrow I'll look down at this little red line
and know it means I just need to say no
for once in my fucking uncontrollable life

deprivation or liberation?

answer:
yes, it is worth it.

deprivation or liberation?

i am sick.
does the 12 pounds gone make up for
the yellow nails
the thinning hair
the falling over?

shipwreck cove

i want to thank you
for the same reason i want to wring your neck
how dare you not take advantage of me?
i want to be a wreck

wasted

I can't write
anymore

I just don't have what he's got
and it sucks because I used to have it
I had it but I'm losing all that along with every pound I shed

killing my lifelong dreams for
a few macabre cancer sticks
and a bony sillouhette

don't bother waiting by the phone

I keep on killing myself over telling him
how could I have told him?
it hurts to know that anyone knows this
I don't even want to look him in the eye anymore
I'm sure it's all he's thinking about when we touch

maybe that's why he hasn't called me?

hey, a girl can dream.

them vs me

i kept my secrets for so long
long enough to make new friends
who didn't know; didn't remember

how could i have let him under my skin so