02/12/11 (2)

People think the nights are the worst,
and yes, they are terrible;
I can feel the absence of you in the space next to me,
and the deafening silence of you not breathing,
and the cold where your limbs should be wrapped around mine,
and I reach with my foot to find yours, but of course, it isn’t there.
But the worst, the absolute worst moment,
is just after that second where I wake up and the pain has been smoothed over in the relief of sleep; 
where dreams of reconciliation play out, or maybe no dreams at all,
where suddenly consciousness opens the doorway for realisation, which comes flying in at such a pace that it actually smacks me full on in the chest,
a huge wall of unrelenting misery, unbearable pain, aching loneliness, overwhelming longing, and unforgiving anguish, 
filling up my body, pulsing through my veins, weighing down my chest with the knowledge that I am left with a cavernous hole in my life, a gaping wound in my heart, and the screaming of every fibre of my being yearning for you.

02/12/12

I absolutely will survive
but I’d rather it be by your side
so we can face the world cheek to cheek
instead of staring at our feet
and forgetting the world which we knew
and letting it all go askew
because we could move forward together
and not be overcome by bad weather
and every second I would treasure
whether it be just for now or forever.
we gave it each other bits of sunshine
please come back and again be mine
you could not give a good reason to leave
but I would not stand there and beg and plead
even though I kind of wish I had
especially now that I’m so sad
but memory and pride would not let me
and so you left and so I bleed
inside mostly and sometimes out
and sit here crying in fear and doubt
I think you didn’t think this through
I think that this is not us, but you
I think you came to the wrong conclusions
I think you are wrapped up in your own confusion
I think that we are happiest together
than facing the world alone and hoping for better
because there is no better love than us
but there is a better life for you, its just
that you have to face up to your problems and fears
before you can be happy in life, my dear
it’s not us that needed to be changed, you see
it’s the rest of your life that you need to change to succeed
your dissatisfaction has been blamed on us
when you need to see the bigger picture, you must
because without you I’m unbearably alone
and wherever I’m with you, I feel like I’m home.
so please, take a moment, to assess how you feel
to re-evaluate, and think, and see what is real
maybe I am wrong, but at least tell me so
sort out your mind and then please let me know
because nothing makes sense, if we both lose
especially when we were so happy together, too.
I hope you know, I will be waiting on you
I cannot let you go, it’s not our time, its too soon.

27/11/12

I am hovering on the border between life and death. 
I am not living, but merely existing in darkness; in misery.
I want to make the feelings end, for the pain to stop, for this unbearable anguish to dissipate. Only one person can do that for me, and since they won’t, then living is not an option.

But I don’t want to die: I fear the nothingness of death, and I fear missing the possible change of events that could mean our reconciliation. Death would also mean causing the unbearable grief that I feel now on many others, yet they would not have the hope of a reunion that I do, since there would be no bringing me back.

And so I live in limbo, which is more of an existence than a life: breathing, carrying out a few daily tasks that I can manage, moving through life with no attention paid to time, for time has no meaning when you are carrying the thick, crushing waves of loneliness, loss, and longing inside of you.

It should not be this way when two people love each other so, when two people care and share as we did, when two people carry around a part of each other within their hearts. It is not right, and the decision was messy, unprepared, confused, and an entanglement of misdirected emotions. Open your eyes, whilst I am still waiting (I will always be waiting).

22/11/12 (2)

I really want to talk to you now,
and tell you,
how my day has been and how the rain keeps making my feet cold,
to ask you what have you been up to,
and to tell you what I am thinking of baking next
and how you’d love the mince pies my dad has bought for us,
and how I will save you one,
and how I cannot wait, to see you next 
to hold you, to kiss you, and to tell you that I love you,
but,
although I love you more than anyone could ever love anyone,
and although you love me too,
you let me go and,
I cannot tell you, how much I miss you, how much I need you,
how I long for your touch, and your voice, and your love,
every second of every hour of every day,
and how it is killing me inside, 
every second of every hour of ever day. 

22/11/12

3.39am and I’m too scared to sleep because the room is so deafeningly silent and my bed is so obviously empty on your side.

The warmth of your body and the steady inhale and exhale of your breath is missing and I lie alone at night, craving your presence and feeling the cavernous hole inside me that is fraught with misery, 
expand even farther with an explosion of unbearable pain, 
leaving me to ache, all night long, 
until sleep numbs me, 
just for me to wake up in the morning to find you gone again, 
and with that realisation, 
resume my suffering.

20/11/12

My experience of the world has numbed; become blurred, like I myself am not really here, just going through the motions of being alive, but carrying around a heavy, heavy misery within me. Then there are the frequent bursts of white hot pain in my chest, under my skin, inside my skull, some that I push forcefully back inside, and others that escape me in drawn out cries and anguish that I cannot bear, until my body shuts down my mind again and returns me to that hollow, aching state that allows me to exist in my misery (I don’t want to exist in this misery).

18/11/12

Even the air smells like you and you’re everywhere in the atmosphere: in the sunlight coming through the trees, in the walk from mine into town, in the warmth of my bedroom, in the empty space in my bed. 

I feel like you belong in them, and you ripped yourself away. Now all that is left is a pressure in my chest that reminds me that you were, such a short time ago, here. 

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.

Limbs
made up of
undesirable flesh
and blood that leaks
through the skin.
drowning in cells
absent euphoria
dysmorphia
distorting glass and
laying scars over skin. 

desire taught me how to
measure my life in numbers;
testing the boundaries of the body 
and the mind.
cotton wool clothing
and skies always darkening
peeling my eyes open
in the hairdressers mirror.

Insides crumbling
trash cans fed with fear
inescapably inescapable
I am totally incapable
of making up my mind. 

I am flesh and bones and blood and muscles and organs. I am scars and tattoos and piercings and make-up and hair dye and scabs and skin. I am pain and anger and love and trust and misery and honesty and fear. I am fire and edges and thunderstorms and whispers and bite-marks and lust and the second the shutter snaps down. I am tired and energised and head and heart and old and new and life and death. 
I am able to carry the world on my shoulders but even a leaf could crush me where I stand.

The rain followed her home every night and squeezed through the cracks in her eyes and found its way into her bloodstream and coursed through her veins. Quite frequently it would turn to fire and burn its way almost to the surface to boil beneath her skin and draw blood from flesh. The screams that echoed continually in every fibre of her being somehow were contained within and only rarely broke free, and even then it just made it worse. Every breath just made her more aware of her excess. Every movement made her conscious of the uncomfortable sensations of being. Every line, curve, and contour must be perfect. It must be, or the world will collapse.

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. 

Cut me free
from this cage
this monstrosity
that binds my weightless soul
and keeps me here
heavy and chained
hurting
in misery
sometimes I think it may be fire that burns within
but I fear that all it is
is darkness
eating up all the light
inside of me
and the lights
have almost gone out

Light
empty
weightless
pain

I feel my
synapses starting to stutter
my 
brain disconnecting
my mind is all
air
and 
space

My eyelids are heavy 
and so is my 
skull
but
my thoughts are so
light
that they float around without being held by
anything
at all. 

Eating Disorder.

It is a little late, but this is for Eating Disorders Awareness Week, which was February 20th - 27th.

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. 

Fire.

The new layer of paint on the wall is cracking,
and those all too familiar bursts of despair are seeping through the gaps.
Hopelessness courses through my body like a poison, 
turning my thoughts black,
forcing open my mouth whilst my brain screams silently inside of my skull.

It rains in the morning,
and I don’t want to get out of bed.

I am incarcerated in this body, and trapped in this mind,
and they follow me everywhere,
and there is no escape.

I am fire, 
and I am burning him alive. 

Skin.

Swirling

circling

all-encompassing

darkness

Choking

bursting

screaming

failure

Desperate

clawing

burning

hatred

Notebooks

numbers

porcelain and

pain

I am pulling out my soul

and I wish it would come out faster.