Weight

Skinny
I over did it.
I didn't want to look this thin.
But I couldn't stop picking myself apart.
For years, I tried to ration out my portions
Not thinking that the habit would permanently stick
Now leading to a sick feeling when I'm sitting in front of a plate
Trying not to overthink or gag when chewing morsels.
Trying to constantly convince my brain to take the food in---
Trying to feel normal again.

I don't thoroughly enjoy eating now.
It's too much work.
It mentally and emotionally drains me.

I stepped on the scale recently---134
How small will I get?
How much more weight would I lose?

Desperately trying to gain some of it back.
To regain the color to my face.
And the sparkle to my eyes.

Skinny
I over did it.
I didn't really want to do this forever
Now I'm shackled to this downward spiral.
Clothes are getting looser.
Energy keeps getting lower.
Tired of the sick feeling when I'm sitting in front of a plate.
Tired of overthinking everything.
Tired of having to constantly tell  my brain that its okay to feed my body.
Tired of not feeling normal again.

I just want to live. Not survive.

Release

I remember the welps on my back and legs.
The open wound on my thigh from an extension chord.
The bruise on my face.
The scars on my heart.

What started and what would've been something powerful,
has manifested into something worse than the ruins of another Roman Empire.
I am troubled and unfixable.
I fear myself.
I fear love.
I fear trust.
I fear vulnerability.
I fear a life of loneliness.

You made me feel like I was nothing.
And now I stand here, a fraction of a person.
Because your fucking words keep echoing into my soul.
Branding me over and over again, like an animal to a slaughter house.
I hate that you've done this to me!

Cry (Haiku)

Pretty brown girl, cry.
It's okay to feel the pain.
Let the tears find you.

Insecurities

He made me feel good.

So I parted my legs as if to give him an offering at his alter.
I budded for him because he made me forget my perceived ugliness
He made me smile.
To him, I wasn't a "bad" girl.
I was just a beautiful goddess.
Something that I couldn't paint in myself.
Because according to me, I was no canvas.
I was broken.
My inner compass didn't work.
So I felt lead and drawn to the nearest compliment.
God wasn't enough.
He was invisible.
How can I be an amazing creation to something that didn't want to show his face to me?
I was mad.
I was hungry for affirmations.
Greedy for fake admiration.
Bleeding for attention.
Wanting to be held and told I was worthy.

He made me feel good.
Even though my cup felt as if it would be empty forever. 
I was in constant need of inner surgery
That only relationships and sex could fulfill
I walked on glass
Crawled on stones
Believed that I was metamorphic.
But I was still me.
A shattered me.
No rescuing would ever come  to something unfixable.
I am forever a bird with clipped wings.
Never to fulfill its purpose within the sky again.
I have fulfilled my purpose as somebody's fix.
I was his notch.
He was my drug.
I lost my pride.

Holes

I dream of diamonds
Pouring down onto me like a rain-fall.
Except I am the dirt on the ground
Unable to swallow up the treasures.
Instead, they fall on me.
Piercing my flesh.
Mocking my existence
While they are taken-up and adorned.
And I am constantly trampled.
Leaving behind imprints and scars.
Dirt.
Dry and infertile.
Unable to produce flowers or hold the roots to a tree.
I have only been good for digging holes.
Only been good for burying the dead
As he continuously enters me and attach his broken shards to my grave.
I bury the dead
I never revive. Never to bring forth love and beauty.
Only tears and mourning of a once jubilant heart.
Dirt.
How long will I endure this pain?
The tears that burn my eyes numb my desire to no longer breathe.
They hold me tight.
They assure that I can feel and that I'm still here.
They make me matter.
They keep me still, even though I want to run.
Run fast.
Away from myself and my eternal hell.
Again I loved, and again I failed.
When will I become the diamonds in my dreams?
Instead of the dirt that pales in their beams?
I am lost.
I am hurt.
I was born not a diamond.
I am nothing.