Heart thumping
Face on the desk
We're talking about suicide
And I know what comes next

She tells us not to look
We have to close our eyes
She says it's an anonymous survey
And I wonder if I should lie

Raising our hands is a yes
And everything inside me
Screams no while I
Try to calm my bouncing knee

I raise a tentative hand
When she asks if we've considered suicide
That tentative hand raise is the largest step I've taken
And part of me feels peace deep down inside

he sits in the corner
of his deserted mind
where not even he
wants to keep
himself company.
the smell of
broken dreams
pang the air.
he feels tired.
he feels wasted.
but most of all
he feels
        




                                                            ­           alone.





and all he wanted
was a sign
from someone
from anyone
just to know
that he wasn't
the only one
who felt this way.

Though you be many miles away
We'll never be apart
I just reach out my hand
To feel the beating of your hearts

I am not writing this
to get attention
or pity
or so people will tell me
I'm beautiful the way I am.

I am writing this
because when I post a poem about
being terrified to look at myself
because I hate what I see,
it should not be added to a collection titled
Humorous.

I am writing this
because when I sit at a lunch table
without a brown paper sack,
boys should not laugh when they ask
what, are you anorexic?

I am writing this
because when I watch Disney Channel
with my eight-year-old cousin,
I should not hear jokes
about skipping meals.

I am writing this
because when you google
anorexia is,
the first suggestion should not be
anorexia is good.

I am writing this
because our society should not
expect people to be paper thin
but judge them
for trying to get there.

I am writing this
because insecurities
are not a joke,
*no one
should be laughing.

A: I don't want to get used to you,
I know I will be the one ending up  d ev a  s  t a t   ed

B: Will that be mutual too? I love you.
Good things happen to those who wait.
You're the good thing.
I will wait.


( T
      I
         M
              E )


A: Why are you doing this to me?
Why do you want to hurt me this much?

B: I thought you moved on by now.








-mosquitoism-

I'm haunted by what they're doing to me
spraining my mind, making me lose sanity

my insides are hurting, searing and dire
I cannot breathe, my lungs are on fire

they engulf my soul with their lashing claws
no one else's hope will save me but yours

shadows are in every direction I turn
consciousness leaving my body to never return

I feel myself slipping out of reality
with the blade in my hand used to escape this brutality

my vision is obscured, I can no longer see
but the voices are no longer pursuing me

he was tall
i am short
he was strong
i am weak
he was the football star
and homecoming king
i was the girl
who sat alone in the library
and kept her head down in the hallways
he was loved
i was invisible
but some how
he, of all people
saw me, and loved me.
he made me feel beautiful
and made me happy
he tickled and teased his way
into my chaotic mind
he kissed and charmed his way
into my heart
but he was the sun
and i am the moon
we weren't meant to collide
but when we did
the universe exploded
and the blast sent us our own ways
he left me
but i never left him.
i follow in his shadow
glimpses of his iridescent light
is the only thing that keeps me going.
but he is the sun
and i am the moon
we will never be together again.
and that is what will **** me.