I think I remember back to something
but I’m not sure.
The day that it happened I was young
but it’s hardly even a memory.
I know that there’s a part of this that’s wrong
but nothing rings true.

I think he gripped me, no he didn’t, did he?
slow or quick
or has my mind slipped, it’s always slipping.
was it abuse,
the point of being so abnormal that it was normal to live by the coral.

I always imagined i was a sea creature
we can’t reach her, they’d say.
she’s too far away fading it all out
and I always wondered why
no one even asked me what it was about
when all the time

they were trying to clear the ******* drought.

I think I won’t remember and perhaps it’s for the best,
can i please now rest?
I love and I can’t stand the ocean in my head,
sometimes i wish i was dead
and honestly, would that really be so bad
when these stills are always so sad?

They’re so raw and you’re all so painted,
it’s not me being opinionated.
I remember my life being so bright but now I’m in bed
and again, it’s crawling in my head.
I’m making it up, none of this feels real but...
It might be. And it scares me.

I binged today. Normally I'd say, "it's okay."
but the truth is that it's not
I wish it weren't so hard to stop, but I have a disorder
One that many people just don't understand.

It's like I have a hole I can't fill inside of me
one that keeps telling me I need to eat more
"You're not full yet, eat this, eat that!" My stomach tricks me
Until it doesn't and I feel the consequences of my actions.

If only I could stop myself.
The people who think it's as easy as telling yourself no are wrong
I spend money on food that I think will help me,
try to create a new habit called "eating healthy."

My disorder just laughs at this.
Because it knows what I'll do the next time I'm feeling anything
I'll go order a McDonalds number 3 large,
or go to the grocery and fill up my cart.

I'll get home and eat it too quickly til I can't move anymore
Then cry and feel angry that I'm too afraid to throw it up.

writing poetry is a way to exist, to attempt to emulate the beauty of the me that I'm not yet but the me that's inside of my head, and it's all spontaneous, nothing planned or rehearsed because rarely does anything come from it

listening to music is a way to exist, I reside somewhere in a line I interpreted to refine an alternative image of this body that I refuse to accept

dissociation is a way to exist, cause the loudness of my own ambitions and dreams and goals, or rather delusions, can distract from my own nightmarish self image, but only for a moment

self harm is a way to exist, as I hope that the me that I imagine is stronger than I am and can tolerate far more punishment inflicted by either myself or my fellow human

******* is a way to exist, cause the lust I experience is never more prominent than when there's truly nothing left for me and I've exhausted every other method, and there is nothing to do but give in to the most worthless way to feel a sense of purpose

Emorie is a way to exist, because she's an exquisite reflection of the life that I've always wanted, and what I wish I could see instead of what I get when I look into the mirror and see dead eyes and unfamiliar flesh.

The limp body laid on the floor
Motionless
Fairy lights outlined the cool form

Impossible
To move
The weight too heavy
Crushing
The whole world

the fairy lights are burning

Body and light
Will never touch
And it stings
It already burns
But it cannot warm the body

Different colours
Different brightness
Various behaviour
Glowing
Burning
Blinding

Fading

they will all cease
When time comes


The scene is romantic - the consequence is not
The bright success, expectations
Failure
The failure is in the middle

Nobody talks about its darkness
Lights are the hot topic.

Society

never quite sure of who or where i am
this head's all over the place
wishing it all could be so easy
to look back at this face

see the real me through these eyes
not be fooled by this flesh disguise
there's a familiarity to the confusion

voices echoing inside me
they want to share time
invited them in, it’s a party
can't distance ourselves in the same body

Can I ever make a decision?
The answer dances on my tongue
Behind my teeth.
Pursed lips and blank eyes.
To dissociate with reality is surely bliss.
I know who I am in my own head.
Out there is a population of mindless sheep.
Tell me it’s time to wake up.
I hear your whisper in my ear.