three times
one: i sit here on my friend's kitchen floor with a bottle of pills and a throbbing headache 'just take a few they're 200mg each you'll be fine'
i smile and nod, she walks out
i begin counting '200, 400, 600, 800, 1000...' all the way up to 2600
"what will 2600mg of ibuprofen do to me" i wonder
and i down the pills
hours later im fine
nothing
im not hurting
just numb once again as always
and i eat
then like usual, go puke it


~the summer before 7th grade~
just a little more dead inside than before

If you are a suicide survivor
Inbox me your name
And I’ll add it to my tattoos of others

You guys mean the world to me
And I have my own name on my arm
Because I too, am a suicide survivor.

i just wanted to feel here again.
i don't want to doubt that people love me.
i can't feel anything but this growing need to float away like a balloon in the sky.
i don't want to feel here,
i don't want to feel at all.

strawberry milk and the smell of elementary lunchrooms is so innocent,
so happy.
i can still hear my friends voices and see us standing in line.
cold classrooms and science rooms that smelled like yeast and vinegar.
backpacks filled with notebooks and folders of work that seems way too easy now.
you wonder where it went from friendship bracelets and recess benches
to
divorced parents and homework that makes you stressed to the point where running your hairs through your hair in the shower only to see how much hair you're losing.
those sweet berried flavored milks seem so far away.
you can't even touch food anymore,
it's not a "safe" food.
where did you go wrong?