I want to sleep off exhaustion that isn’t physical, waiting for wounds that don’t bleed to finally heal. Tears roll red hot down my throat, hidden by a smile that’s only the corners of my mouth pointing upwards. My hands run ice cold from the fever in my mind. I’m hungry for things I can’t eat and need something to brighten the darkness which isn’t light.


Not present

Who knew
a sigh could be so heavy
The weight of all your worries
Blown out in a single breath
And drawn in again

Who knew
the tips of my fingers would seem so distant
My mind disassociating
Feeling small inside my body
If it is still mine

Who knew
you could get used to such things
Boundaries endlessly pushed
Previous limits
Now the standard

The reason I can’t work at home is because when there’s no one to pretend for, everything comes crashing down and the ‘real me’ breaks in weakness.

I brought in my pass-out-drunk friend and proceeded to talk about drinking and other drugs the day after. Anything to escape the stress, to forget if even for a little. I never understood addicts until this last year, no, until I moved. Me and my best friend have even set up a plan to eat special brownies and all we lack is a place to eat. I’m surrounded by drugs and other damaging outs, can you blame me for wanting to give in? It doesn’t help that I don’t get hangovers, it takes a lot for me to get drunk, and I’m easily tipsy. So many years I’ve said no, taken “the high road”, I’ve changed so much…

skinny stress

skin is starting to pull tighter around now obvious bones

once hidden veins can be traced from the tips of my finger to my armpits

the cold chills me to my core through unusually many layers of clothes

seeing food is enough to make my stomach twist and turn


energy is at an all-time low

sleep is difficult and never enough

migraines are a common occurrence

sheer will is all that keeps me going


the words and stares pierce me like a dull knife

while they see something beautiful

I suffer the price