nothing happened. you got away; horrified and shaking, but you did. it was after.
when everything happened.
used to be, you’d cry when you scraped your knees, and you'd let people finish their sentences before thoughtfully adding your own – but that was before, before those boys knocked something loose in you, because now it's a cycle of not stopping. you can't stop talking or thinking, thinking all these big, bold thoughts that can take you away, that can surround you like a deep, dark tunnel, you can't stop eating because girls are supposed to smile and sometimes eating fills that emptiness inside of you, just for a minute, but then you can't stop starving because there's no time to eat, because you can't stop,
I visited her in the hospital for a few days. Despite whatever she had, she still had the same glowing smile, her blonde hair still curled around her face. Even her lipstick look like it never had faded. She was the picture of well, Life, and she was still recovering, but she was going to be okay.
Life hated hospitals. She’d visited one too many, watched too many doctor shows; she knew Death hung around hospitals so often, and she didn’t want to deal with him. He always went around killing the spirits of others in the hospital. Life would have to go and fix things sometimes, but much too often did Death wring his hands around too many patients’ necks.
But Life was back in the hospital, this time, not by choice. She was lucky enough; there was no sign of Death. She was worri
and suddenly i am 10, 11, 12 again
and i am holding beer bottles to my chest
climbing carpeted stairs and propping doors open
my bare feet padding across the grass
and dad is sitting in his maple leaf chair
they are laughing and i am prying off bottle tops
holding out a yellow plastic cup reading "tips"
waiting expectantly for a dime or two
and my head is between my dads knees
and he is squeezing and squeezing and laughing
laughing until i start crying and go back inside
and here i am at 18 hearing similar words
knowing they are not for me but hearing my father anyway
and the brief panic goes but leaves a shaking memory
of a car and the expressway and a locked seat belt
asking myself over and over "why didn't i die"
why didn't i die, why didn't i die
and my therapist is telling me you matter
you matter you matter you matter
but 11 year old me in the car doesn't feel it
and 18 doesn't believe it
telling her i can't get out of the car
a decade later and
Back then, the skeletons in my closet
Couldn't tell the difference between me and them
No one tells you that it still follows you
Like a shadow
It watches you count the numbers on boxes in the supermarket
It watches you eat your breakfast
It watches you socialise
It watches you wonder why you're even shoving your hole with dirt
Why aren't you on the bathroom floor?
Why aren't you listening to me?
You aren't small enough yet, it says
Your boyfriend can't pick you up, it says
Your thighs are still touching, it says
I can't see your hip bones, it says
So I bite my knuckles during lunch
I wake up with balls of hair greeting me on my pillow in the morning
I let my body scream at me
I fall asleep in class
Because I thought a bite of an apple was a good enough meal
Yet I am still counting the numbers in that apple
I am still listening to that monster that lurks
Around every corner
It lets me know that I am not perfect
I am not
I remember every time I ever shredded apart my skin.
Did you ever watch calmly as crimson leaked from your veins?
I never once panicked when it all happened too quickly.
Did you ever try to lure death closer as it stared you in the face?
I laid a trail of broken promises and brought him to me with a leather belt.
Did you ever dig your nails into your chest, trying to drag out your heart?
I never learnt that I needn't bother.
Did your wrist ever ache under the pressure of pulling at your insides all night?
I would've swallowed those razorblades if I could've stomached the taste.
Jinxx had left for the caffeteria to get coffee.
CC had broken down when he'd seen him, and had gone home, unable to accept the fact that Andy, the tall boy with a big dream and an even bigger heart, and become this...monster.
Ashley knew how hard it was for him - CC was an empathetic, friendly, sensitive person - and so understood the fact that CC would probably stay away from the Rehab Center.
Andy looked worse than before, though he'd been cleaned, his skin had broken out in a cold sweat, and he was shaking uncontrollably. They watched as he woke, dark eyes darting like a rabbit caught in headlights. "W-where am I?" He asked, quietly, refusing to look at the two. "Let me go!" He struggled against the heavy velcro straps holding him d