The silence is deafening; unbearable
all the gaps you have left behind cannot be filled:
a gaping chasm inside me
pain pushing me apart from the inside out
anguish ripping through me every second, every moment
tearing me to pieces
exploding through my veins

The deepest longing
for your touch
for your voice
for only you can make the pain subside

but you won't.

Tell Me.

Tell me how to quieten my mind without emptying my body,
how to walk through the trees without counting the time,
tell me how to feel like I’m not just so normal
without watching the numbers decrease, yes I’m trying

Tell me how to taste without feeling guilty,
teach me how to feel full without wanting to gag,
pull me to my feet when I fall down on bruised knees,
rub my soul back into my skin, trace lines down my back 

The darkness is calling but the light wants me closer,
though the numbness and bruises are beckoning me home,
I’m nothing without it, I can’t trust the brightness,
it may stay for a while but it always leaves me alone 

Open my mouth and force in seeds full of sunshine,
listen to me whisper, watch blood fall from my lips,
watch me twist, and morph into monsters,
hear me cry over razor-sharp hips

Elusive memories flutter around my eyelids,
fingers dancing across jutting bones,
it’s time to start smiling, a voice breathing gently,
but just as I said, darkness is calling me home. 

5/6/12

Numbness and
that stony cold silence
that is so much better than
the rage and deafening noise
of the warm sickening tightness
in the belly and 
I forgot how much I love 
emptiness 
and shrinking 
not expanding
and being able to lie down and know that
I may want to disappear
but I am doing so
instead of lying there 
knowing that I failed and
wanting to tear off my skin and fly away
as a weightless soul
at least, at least,
at least I am getting there by
denying myself
instead of filling myself up and then helplessly watching the expansion
instead of feeling so conspicuous and stretched outwards
but denying is really rewarding
because in the morning
when there is flatness instead of bloating
it may not be flat enough
but it is flatter than before 

15/05/12

I am scratches
and holes in tights
and numbers
and many steps in the dark
I am sweat, blood, and tears
I am heart pumping
knees up
I am long red lines 
and vomit in the bottom of toilets
I am scars and bones
and the lack of prominence
I am dark circles 
bloodshot eyes
and angry black thoughts
I am misery and longing
and a certain sense of forgetfulness
I am aching limbs
blisters
closed lips
and many hot cups of tea
I am cigarette smoke and bleary eyes
I am veins and emptiness, tinged with death.
I am endless.
 

She drew a breath of the cold, fresh air, and then exhaled. Condensation left her lips like visible life, dancing in the air, and then leaving her, alone, to take her next lungful. Her tired eyes looked upward, searching for sunshine in the bleak, grey sky. A sigh of disappointment left her as she found none. Walking down the street she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. She turned angrily away from it, muttering to herself, as if the window was personally forcing her to confront her own mirror image. She strode back to her apartment; full of purpose but lost in thought. 
Back in her room she sunk into her chair wearily, the darkness creeping in; that beautiful, bittersweet darkness that she readily welcomed. She clung to her mind for one last second,
and then let go.