Rage flows,
When the pains shows,
That others have to go through,
When there's nothing you can do...

****** eyes,
Bruised thighs...
All from they guys they've come to trust.
It's disgusting...

And the saddest part of it all,
Most won't even tell a soul.

Because they don't want to worry us.
Or maybe,
It's too dangerous,
To try and run away..

All I can say is,
Don't be afraid to try and trust again,
Because I swear,
You can love again.

Because, we can help.
Even if it is, just to listen.

~Robert van Lingen

I can't remember the last time you smiled
I can't remember the last time you asked me how I felt
I can't remember the last time you said "I love you"
I can't remember the last time you understood
I can't remember the last time we agreed
I can't remember the last time we laughed together; truly laughed
I can't remember the last time we sat down and talked
I can't remember the last time I was good enough

All I remember is your hatred
All I remember is your scorn
All I remember is your sharp, cutting words
All I remember is that unending disappointment
All I remember is my pleas being ignored
All I remember is you telling me I'm worthless

And I remember
the day I took those pills because of you

Hollow, floating just on the surface,
Follow the motes of dawn 'till they drown.
Plastic and pleasant: all that the earth is,
Spastic and present: rising, rising to fall back down.

I have never felt right,
writing this poem.
They keep saying
that I'm "strong".
I don't feel strong.
I feel...

like ripping off my skin
wouldn't be enough
that breaking my hands
couldn't help

I feel lost.
The lion has left me.

I hate the word "perfect".


Nobody can be perfect.
It's literally impossible.

They say, "Don't change, you're perfect as you are."
Humans can't be perfect.
It's not in our nature.

Our media portrays perfection as people's personalities painted in pretty pastel.
Don't be fooled.
Perfection is disgusting.

Perfection
is tearing your hair out over a simple dashed line
in front of the "A" on the report card.

Perfection
is raking chewed cuticles across your cheeks
for missing the kick in Phy. Ed class.

Perfection
is spilling your guts out after every meal and screaming into the mirror,
"Am I perfect yet?! Am I good enough for you?!"

Perfection
is ripping apart the artwork you poured your heart into
because someone pointed out a flaw, and now you can't unsee it.

Perfection
is gorging on painkillers
as if they would take away the emotional pain, too.

Don't you dare tell me that I'm perfect
because perfection is disgusting.


I hate the word "perfect".