you unveiled the curtains and taught me showed me how to live
but why did you leave before i did/could

why couldn't you have stayed?
at least to give me one last parting hug?

funny how we blitzed through the years
days that we just took for granted.

the days where we were truly alive.

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insanity is a pretty fair trade for solitude and peace. i'm tired.
of battling everything. of fighting. i'm tired.
i want to end my war against this world.
and let go.

i'm tired of going against the odds.

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if, i spoke in riddles, lyrics, verses, and quotes,
would you get me?

we could be living, breathing the same air
and yet still be a millions worlds apart
if you couldn't (or wouldn't)
understand my heart.

i could have confessed my love for whales, blue skies, and you
and you'd still turn away with confusion


i love the colour of your eyes, crystal,
but never my own reflection.
like glass beads, and marbles.
a conquest.

mine reads cloudy, a murky white
set in sheer black.

barefoot on a summer night.

alexander, i could be
would be.
(your) jade.

except you would only correct me,
Roxana, Stateira, or perhaps Barsine you'd say.
with the still patient, though somewhat exasperated voice
of a preschool teacher.

in the streets we're running free...

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there is another anorexic girl in my school.
i watched her do her runs, and float around the campus
a silent presence of thin.

it was oddly transfixing somehow,
the way she held her body together,
when she was so obviously on the edge
of breaking down.

the way her bones clattered their silent clatter
and how she made it through the day.

there is something terrifying when you see another anorexic
on the verge of collapse.
because somewhere, deep down inside your mind
is a little niggling voice not yet entirely drowned out,
by the cry of your heart;

she's dying! someone do something.
stop her before it kills her.
someone help her.
stop it. that whispers,
this could be you,

she is going to die.

somewhere in between, it becomes almost somewhat voyeuristic.
a show, to see, just how much further she can go, how much thinner she can get,
before she gives out.

and still, it whispers, that voice in your head,
that could be you. PIG!
if only you were thinner.


**i think she's turned bulimic, or is just wavering, on hold.
i see her on her multiple toilet trips, lugging her bottle, stone faced.

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i'm trying to relearn how to eat. how to live.
this year's a new chance and a new beginning.

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i dare you to ask me out.
i dare you to date me.

don't though.
i would mess up your mind so bad.
i've cruised highs so electric you'd think i was on MDMA.
i've sunken into places so warped and dark
you'll probably never imagine them even in your nightmares.

it'd be nice if i could hold your hand again though.

Rapid cycling Bi-Polar disorder + BPD + EDs = One hell of an emotional roller coaster you don't want to know.

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