the slumber party

trigger warning: self-harm. need to talk? crisis lines are here.

let’s make up secret languages, and i’ll bury my head in your shoulder trying to cut out the world from existence. self-harm thoughts and little wounds, but it’s all right. i keep band-aids on me at all times.

let’s stay up late or watch tv or get lost in the forest. and when you’re not looking, i’ll sneak out back and let the panic crush my skull, because i can’t handle this. all right? but it’s okay. i don’t want you to know.

and i’ll fall apart without you. because i love you, which means i don’t even know who i am without you. which means i’ll crumble the very second i start to doubt you. 

and you know, when i was a kid, i used to keep the broken things. odd socks, and shattered mugs, and containers without lids. tuck them in drawers in my room, and tell them they were worthy. because maybe, if i could surround something with the same love i wished i could give myself, it would fix me.

i remember, how i used to feel so empty. like a hollowed-out seashell, left behind as some souvenir for another shattered reality. and to be honest, some days, i still feel that way.


This seriously isn’t about anyone in particular–it’s mostly just about something I do in general. When I meet a person who makes me feel loved or accepted, I guess I latch onto them really easily, because of how terrified I am of them leaving. Also, that story about me as a kid is true–I really did used to do that. 

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dial tone

the pulsing groan of the dial tone works its way through my mind. and if i watch enough tv, maybe i’ll still be there to see the world vanish softly, and melt into my tired insides.

go away. go away. go away. just leave me alone in my fucking garbage dump of a brain. because i’m not a person anymore. i’m just a diagnosis, or a label, or something like that. and if this illness defines me, then does that mean i need to be sick to be happy?

does that mean no one really loves me? does that mean i can’t even trust one fucking word you’ve told me? or is this all just my mind, messing with me?

just make it all stop, okay? i’m not ready yet. i’m not ready for any of this. i’m not ready for time to exist, and i’m sorry.

but i don’t think i can do this.


I wrote the original draft of this poem really late at night, and I’m not sure what it’s about, but it’s definitely a pretty good picture of the weird mental state I’ve been in of late.

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january 6th, 2020

paperthin doubts. crumbling bones. and don’t you dare try to give me anything resembling a compliment, because if you do i think i might explode.

tired eyes and weak bones. and i’m sorry for crying on your staircase at two in the morning i just feel so alone.  so trapped inside myself. and you’re allowed to take up space in a room, you know.

skeletal fingers and shadows in the night, slamming your eyes closed. because i’ve seen monsters, all right? i’ve been there, and i’ve done that, and nothing you throw at me could possibly compare to the villains that live in my head.

panic attack in the locker bay, mid-block all alone. and fake a smile, okay? say you’re fine when they say hello.

questioning reality. because you’ve never been in anyone’s mind but your own. and this could all just be a stimulation, or a game, or some kind of sick dream. you know?

a heart. cold as stone.


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avoidance strategies

if i don’t think about it, i won’t have to do anything about it, at least for tonight. and that’s enough for me, okay? just give me one more day, where i don’t have to be afraid of who i’ll become when i turn and face the light. 

if i don’t think about it, i’ll have just a little longer to hold the world in my hands, and let it stir in my chest. let it make me so scared it’s hard to breathe and did i ever not feel this exhausted?

and you see, my mind is feeling like an electric fence today. and every step forward i take is some kind of calamity, and today, my mind is endless pounding gravity, dragging me down, down, down, crushing hopes and dreams into a solid ball of matter until there’s nothing left i remember. 

today, my mind plays guard. and i am its prisoner.


Check out the spoken word version here. Find me on PatreonYouTubeInstagramWattpadTumblr, and on Twitter.

as long as you’re there, i won’t have to be alone

let me bury my thoughts in your arms. your warm, soft arms, that always feel like home. let me drown in your problems, so i will never have to think about my own. because i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know why i’m even trying. so…

so as long as you’re with me, i won’t have to be lost, or scared, or alone. because god do i feel alone. and i know this is stupid, but i just… it’s all so dark inside my head. and i still can’t find a lightswitch or i don’t know. i’m just so scared of what happens next. 

when i crawl out of the coffin nestled deep in my skull. and maybe for the first time in my life, i’ll really see the world.


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