“you didn’t have to do any of this…”

if i don’t talk about it, it won’t exist. if i don’t think about it, i won’t hurt anyone, and eventually i’ll stop being like this. 

if i laugh loud enough. if i smile wide enough. if i colour-coordinate my outfits…

because i don’t deserve to express symptoms of mental illness. i don’t deserve to take up your time. i don’t deserve to feel alive, except for from 9pm to midnight.

i don’t deserve the look you get in your eyes. like maybe you actually think i’m gonna do something in my life. i don’t deserve the followers, or the friends, or the nice comments, or the likes. and i’m sorry for letting on like i was someone i wasn’t, all right?

this must be a mistake. i don’t think you get it. i’m just a person. and i’m kind of falling apart at the moment. and i can’t comprehend how anyone could possibly see this mess of a mind in all its honesty and still think i’m worth it.

i mean. i couldn’t.


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“people with self-esteem are stupid”

trigger warning: self-harm, general heavy and potentially triggering content

i. self-destruction is the only worthwhile thing about me. so i’ll smile wide as i tear myself apart, and then take a selfie. because it’s cute, right? totally.

and my past rolls out behind me. and the future looms before me, and someone say something please tell me i’m not  making this up, because everywhere i look all i can see is the world ending–

ii. it’s been a while. and the self-harm marks are finally fading. which should be a good thing. but even the idea of not having physical validation of the fact that i am sick is terrifying. 

the idea of being better is terrifying. because i’ve never really seen myself without this anxiety, like the cat who came back constantly trailing behind me. 

iii. and it hurts. and it hurts. and it hurts. but it also leaves. and i know who i am.  i know who i want to be.

i am the first step forward. i am a shaking hand, extended toward yours. i am thunder, and rain, and lightning, and words like a snowstorm. 

and i am not anxiety. i was never anxiety. or any of the other shit you liked to tell me. i’m me. i always have been, and i always will be. and you can try. but i don’t think you’ll ever be able to take that away from me. 


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anything

Copy rejection


where i have “*****” it’s me censoring out my real name. just read it in your head as “eliza” or “emma” or something. 😉


every time i get rejected, the first thing that goes through my head is that i was too different. too different, as in there are some things that scare me so much i’m kind of sugarcoating myself in blankets just to avoid the burn of their eyes. because their eyes are boring into me and i can’t breathe i can’t breathe i. can’t. breathe. i’m falling apart and i need to stop laughing off my feelings, like i can numb away the pain with a couple needles and a couple syllables, but i’m addicted to the way in the moment, all the colours kind of melt together as they do when you’re half-asleep, and i guess you could say that 5p.m. feels pretty much the same as midnight. i write everything i hate about myself on paper and scribble on it and rip it to pieces, and i imagine that that’s enough to get rid of it. but it doesn’t really help much beyond that moment and maybe that’s because i never really believed it. every time i get rejected, i think maybe i take it a little bit better, but maybe that’s just me, burying the pain so i don’t have to face it. because i still get whiplash from the impact of the fact that in whatever way you saw the clearest part of me i know and i still wasn’t good enough. because i wasn’t good enough. because i wasn’t strong enough, or tall enough, or maybe i made too many mistakes in a row, and maybe i should just bury myself down under all this collateral damage and stay there and ***** you know most people wallow in their sadness and never communicate their feelings and never get better. and other people are normal, and why can’t you just be neat and tidy and can’t you just look like them and can’t you just care about how you look and can’t you just never fail because then you’d never hurt and you know most people are fine and no one will love you if you’re always feeling things stop feeling things ***** stop writing depressing poetry. stop telling other people about the thoughts inside you because you’re only making it worse anyway. and *****, why can’t you be yourself more because most people are ok most people don’t ever get rejected most people aren’t trying why don’t you just stop trying why don’t you just collapse on the ground and stop thinking anything. your brain is made of lead and everything is collapsing *****. did you really think you were good enough for anything?


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pretty / nice / beautiful

so yesterday there were contractor people at my house. literally, not poetically.

 

when i say this / i mean it / all the feelings / in my throat / go down tasting like / ink & plastic / ink & plastic / i / smell like / honey i / told myself this time i / was gonna be / worth it but / this time / is right now / and / it feels like / there’s a tsunami / rising up in my throat / i want to escape / i want to escape / i want to / close the door / behind me / when i say this / i mean it when / i talked to you / i didn’t mean it / the panic is a windstorm / kicking up the dust in my throat / the shadows / under my eyes look like / cotton-candy clouds / but i can feel myself / skidding / but i am / working too quickly to consider / stopping / my stomach / stops / spinning / i can’t / the taste of / parchment & / plastic / paper lanterns / i have no right / to be pretty  / i have no right / to laugh / i have no right / to clip in flowers to my / hair i have no right / to stand here / i have no right / to close my eyes & dream the dreams you never got / i have no right to close the door / but there’s a sheen of seran wrap / covering my mouth / i’m tangled up like / a butterfly in a spider’s web / in my throat / but i / don’t / know / who / i / am / i can hear the news anchor voices now / i was supposed to come / to be interviewed / i was supposed to / come / out / come / out / my stomach feels like / a metal cage / i will live out / my days in / there’s echoes / trailing around / my basement / there’s / echoes / when i say this / i mean there are people / drilling holes into the walls / i mean there are people / with their trucks / parked in my driveway / i mean i could really use the / waterfalls in your eyes / & the smile like sunlight / on your cheeks / i mean / everything smells / like / metal  i mean i / forgot how to say hello i forgot / how to say you’re welcome / i forgot how to sing without feeling the notes choke like there’s a traffic jam in my throat / my hands are / shaking i / didn’t ask / you / the questions i wanted to / the ink is settling / burning tattoos onto my / palms / when will you be gone / when will you be gone / when will you be gone / i close my eyes  / i lean against the mattress / sounds of hammers at the floor / stitch myself together / carefully / music / just listen to music / & it’ll be okay / just start to cry / maybe tomorrow / it’ll hurt / a little less / air feels too / warm air / leaks into my / chest / if only you / talked like this / every single day / if only there was / proof / i was worth / this / worth / anything / bittersweet taste of / fennel on my / lips / i don’t / know how to / talk / & i wanted / to be your friend / but i guess the issue with / meeting someone on a professional basis / is that / it doesn’t last / is that / it doesn’t / stick around / forever & / i feel like i’m / choking / on myself / i feel like maybe i / said something wrong i feel / like / maybe wearing sunglasses / so i could look into your eyes without you noticing / was the wrong decision / my lungs feel like pillows / that got accidentally torn up in a battle / & i know / there are people who keep trying to drill pilot holes / in my skull just to tell me you are worthy you are worthy you are worthy / i know there are people who call me up / when it snows / to have a snowball fight / i know there are people who don’t want me to go / i know i practically framed your praise on the wall / i know i’ll hear all the things you said / in my head / but the monsters / the claptrap-clang-bang-ricocheting bullets / always seem louder / i always feel like / i said something / wrong feel like my mouth is one of those filters / they use to purify water / except instead i make sure / nothing beautiful / comes out the other end / there are / ghost sounds / echoing from the / floor / there’s a wall / between us. // there’s a wall / between / you & me / & your voice / sounds like a pillow / sounds like all the  edges are / grey & smudged / there’s a bouquet of happy / all around me / but everything / smells like metal / but even this stupid bottle of celebrity / perfume / you gave me / couldn’t / make me feel pretty / couldn’t / make you / love / me / love / me / when i say / love me / i mean / i’m lonely  / when i say / i’m lonely / i don’t mean / desperately / i don’t mean it / like / i need your charity / i mean it like / i’m lonely because i hate myself especially / when it seems like you’re telling me to / i mean it like / what if i got / dirt / under my fingernails / what if i wrote you / a rainstorm / why is the only place i feel safe / inside my skin / inside my room with the door closed / why do i wear clothes that make me look as much like nothing / as possible / why don’t you come home / why don’t flower clips in my hair / make you / love / me / why can’t / i stop / trying / to make you / love me… // you know / those positive / affirmations / you can pull up on the internet? // yeah. // they feel / like pieces of thread / tied to my / fingers / feel like / pieces of thread / with no one / behind them / form a / tapestry / & / i scrabble / at the rock / & let go / & they / form a / rainbow / they / fall / with me / then / would you stay / then / would i be your everything / no one is anyone’s everything / no one is anyone’s everything / now / am i / beautiful