I tell my professor that I'm struggling with depression
He tells me he didn't notice.
Like it is something I am supposed to wear on my arm
If I am not covered in cuts or darkness
It's not happening.
I've learned
When someone feels like they don't have choices
They resort to the best way of surviving
That they know how to.
For me, that's faking it
Plastic face, ripped in half
I am tearing myself to shreds
Behind clear eyes.
What you don't see is the scars on my chest
That I get from scraping my skin with nails
Any perceived blemish must come off
I hide the holes with makeup and clothing
Dressed to impress.
What you don't see is the nearly infected patch of skin
Under my hairline
Because I can't stop reopening the wound
I keep it concealed.
My body is not a canvas on which I paint
My compulsive habits and depressive symptoms
For all to see.
I survive the best I can
And it almost comes off as if I'm thriving
Sometimes I forget there are days
When moving my limbs ***** the life out of me
I fool myself into thinking I'm fine
Until I get hit with a tidal wave of triggers
They always seem to appear in threes
I keep trying to arrange the broken pieces
So I look pretty
Isn't that the best thing that a woman can be anyway?
Or so we're taught.
I tell my professor
"I'm trying."
He thanks me for explaining things to him.
Submitting to my own guilt
For speaking of pain,
My mouth forms a small smile
After all, this is the way
I have been taught
To survive.

how do you convince yourself you aren't measured by someone elses' love?
Asking for a friend.

and then the rain fell

kissing someone is like all the buzzing and all the chatter
wars fought behind my eyes and choirs of angels
screams of demons, the screeching and aching of
a man as he falls, the grating of Earth's plates and
crumbling of mountains, breezes over grassfields
crackling lightning and shuddering thunder,
pounding heart and throbbing arteries, the echo
of a pulse beat through the hospital room,
nail-biting and foot-tapping and dilemmas and expression
art and logic and worth and failure and love and war
comes to silence. I feel nothing.
My heart, which did beat fast, is calmed and soothed
as soon as my lips touch anothers'.
The buzz of electricity in my veins finds its way
through the wire, and the circuit is complete.
There is peace. There is no more world
there is just two people, two people who
promised not to promise anymore
is this blindness? Is this deafness?
Is this completion and fulfillment?
Will it feel different next time, with someone else?
Is this how everyone else feels?
Is this how the person opposite me feels?
Is this how I feel? Is this alright? Am I okay?
I am okay. You're telling me I'm okay without speech.
Silence. This is it.

I will not change for you.
I understand, I understand, I understand.
You have never once asked me to.
But what you don't understand is that what you want would require me to change.
It would require me to stifle parts of my soul, of who I am to make it work.
I can't silence these pieces of me any longer.
I'm sorry, but I can't make that sacrifice.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, *I'm sorry.

And I want it, I want my life so bad
I'm doing everything I can

Well, I've got thick skin and an elastic heart,
But your blade - it might be too sharp
I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
Yeah, I may snap and I move fast

But you won't see me fall apart
**'Cause I've got an elastic heart