I am so sick of having to go to mass to please my family who will not accept me otherwise.

I am so sick of having to walk down the street covering myself because men can't de-sexualise normal human body parts.

I am so sick of the arguments of sexism, racism and overall discrimination.

-if someone accepts you, great.
-if they don't, grow a thicker skin and rise above.

I am so sick of being afraid of things like trying new food and roller coasters that make me feel as though I'm missing out.

I am so sick of being so extremely misanthropic that when someone says they can relate to my sadness I get angry that another human believes they can empathise with me.

I am so sick of being told what to do with my life.

I am so sick of not knowing what to do with my life.

I am so sick of acting like I know what to do with my life.

I am so sick of my life.

I am so sick of myself.

I am so sick of looking at my features and scrutinising them.

I am so sick of being alive.

I am so sick.

I've Put So Much Into This,
I'm Not Going To Give Up Now.
Your Happy To **** Me,
To Show Me Your Deepest Passion.
But You Wont Let Me In,
What's Your Problem,
Your Afraid Of Being Used,
But Happy To Use Me.
I Knew From The Second That I Set Eye's On You You Were Trouble,
But Being Arrogant I Went On,
Now I Am Sitting Here,
Wondering What Happened.
Why Am I The One With These Feeling's?
What Did I Do Wrong?
You Were My Blue Eyed, Blond Hair Girl,
Most People Would Call You The Perfect Trophy.
I Now Know You To Be The Perfect *****.
Building Me Up Like That Every Time,
So You Could Just Walk Away And Watch Me Tumble Down.
But I Still Can't Give You Up,
You Are My Worst Habit,
That Hook That Got Me Good,
I Need My Fix,
But You Deny It.
Why Do This,
Is It A Game To You?
Because I Feel Like A Used Nintendo 64,
Just Sitting In The Corner Covered In Dust,
Just Waiting For Your New Play Station To Quit On You.
Is That What I Am To You?
Just A Fall Back?
Am I That Thing You Don't Really Want But Just Keep In Case?
Or Do You Want More From Me?
I Don't Know,
This Is Starting To **** Me Now,
These Question's Hurt More Than The Scrutinising Look We Have Shared On More Than One Occasion.
I Want More,
I Need More,
I Need You.
I'm Not Ready To Be Your Little Bit On The Side Or Back Up Any More,
I Deserve More,
No One Deserves This.
Please Be Humane,
Put Me Out Of My Misery!

Hello, hello,
you sweet little child.
Hello, hello,
you innocent soul.

Can you see me cry?
Can you see the demons
reflected in my eyes?
Can you see the scars
inscribed on my skin?
Can you see through my mask,
so feeble, so terribly thin?
Can you see it peeling off,
can you see me rotting?

Hello, hello,
you sweet little child.
Hello, hello,
you innocent soul.

Are you afraid?
Are you scared of the
big bad scarred monster
on your doorstep?

My scars relinquishing in
sunlight,
the devils inside me
caught in a ****** war,
the pain that's decaying
my organs, my soul,
my body crumbling
like pastries to dust,
my tormented existence,
my struggle through life.
Gnawed at by self-hatred,
praised by self-harm,
thriving in blades,
awash with blood...

Can you see this?
Can you hear them?

Can you hear the voices
roaring in my head,
screaming, yelling,
howling
sweet little
"disgusting"s
"failure"s
"****"s
"good-for-nothing"s
"nobo­dy-needs-you"s
"ugly"s
"fat"s
"stupid"s
"pathetic"s
"you're better off dead"
?

Can you hear
the cry of my veins?
Can you hear my blood
begging for release?
Can you hear
my gut-wrenching
cries for help?
Can you hear my screams?

Can you see the figures
scrutinising me
deep inside my head?
Can you see the pain
bleeding down my
arms
and things?
Can you see me
ripping myself slowly
thread by ******* thread?

Hello, hello,
you sweet little child.
Hello, hello,
you innocent soul.

Can you recognise me?
Can you see yourself?

Don't stay, my sweet little girl,
don't stay,
run away,
my sweet little girl,
greetings from your
future self
on the path to decay.

Our hands entwined, expressing feelings no words can describe.
Fingertips reading every emotion with exact precision.
A new language fully mastered, due to necessity.

Sun, exaggerating our expressions for others to witness.
Penetrating the wall of friendship we are hidden behind.
Eyes asking the questions their mouths don't dare to utter.

Not in daylight public, that's against the unwritten rules.
Glares are probing, scolding, scrutinising and disgusted.
We are exposed to this criticism daily, without argument.

It is pointless, for they cannot hear our words.
Worthless is explanation, their small minds are made.
Creatures we are, unholy a different species entirely.

They preach mercy, forgiveness, and understanding.
Yet they do not practise it.
Unworthy of acceptance, is it that much to ask?

Eyes devouring each sentence
Savouring every word
Tasting thoughts, feelings
So carelessly served
Before such judging critiques
Scrutinising and harsh.

I got my hair cut
Again
Yesterday
In a small salon the filthy streets of Philadelphia's Chinatown;
The golden eagle
Appropriately named as I always feel wings lift me when I leave
Though the streets are grey and black with dirt and grime,
The salon is clean, chic, and welcoming
First one young lady with limited English swept me up to be dropped into the care of a second who washed my hair and luxuriously massaged my scalp with exquisitely long nails
Then I was led over to a swivel chair to ponder my reflection and bat my legs as a little child, waiting on Kelly for my grown up haircut
At last Kelly was free, and she too whisked me over to her mirror
In her most exceptional care she cut and thinned and cut and razored and thinned and cut some more
Her fingers flew, running through my hair and seeming to drop pieces of hair by magic
At last she styled and stepped back nervously asking if I liked it
Quickly scrutinising it, running my fingertips over the much-shortened hair, I looked up
And grinned
I love it
The bangs barely long enough to brush my eyebrows
The back as short as a boys, bristling when I rub it the wrong way
The front long and soft enough for tousling but short enough to stay out of my way
If I envelope my head in my hands I can easily trace the contours of my scalp
As though a couple silk scarves were draped over a barren skull
I was told I look like Emma Watson or Audrey Hepburn or a boy
But I love this
They're both stunning women
And I don't mind shocking a few old ladies with the surprise that this "strong young man" is I'm fact a girl

Let's talk about silence
Because I think my words are failing me
For the first time I'm out of phrases
My tongue is tied, its happening very rapidly
I think I might be judging you
For the same mistakes that I've shared with you
But I'm putting you under the spotlight
Scrutinising more than you're giving to me
And all in silence
Hush, don't speak, I'm out of talks to talk
Let's just walk the walk
And stand apart;
One feet
Because it doesn't make sense
Two feet,
I think I'll step a bit farther more
Ten feet
I want to be untied and set free
Forty feet, fifty, a hundred, thousands
Infinity
Don't want my heart to skip a beat, anymore
It does though
Because I think I've leapt a bit too far-a-way
Thousands- a hundred- fifty- forty feet
I think I'm retreating back a bit
Two feet
I'm sinking into the ground
A final leap
One feet
I knew I couldn't do without you for long
You hug me// you couldn't either
My tongue is tied, it's happening very rapidly
//entangled in yours
For the first time I'm out if phrases
//you're gazing at me
Because I think my words are failing me
//yours are creeping onto my existence
Let's talk about silence.

I want to be one of those girls.
The girls with craters for collarbones,
arms so gamine and slender
that they mirror the bend
of a flowers stalk.

I want to be one of those girls.
The girls who can wake up and go
without spending an hour
scrutinising themselves in the mirror,
so naturally beautiful
that they exude summer.

I want to be of those girls.
The girls who like to dress like the magazines,
that are entirely sugar and spice
and everything nice,
always painted
with a rom com ready smile.

I want to be one of those girls.
The girls who always know
exactly what to say,
when to laugh
and when to shut their mouths.

I want to be one of those girls.
The girls described as ****
and cute
and girlfriend material,
instead of
'one of the guys'.

I want to be one of those girls.
Not whatever I am
who laughs too loud
and eats too much
and drinks too much
and doesn't care
what Kim K wore to the gym last week.

I want to be one of those girls.
I want -

I just want to be me.

He didn't force me, I walked into that house willingly. Eager steps to escape the row of cars, the buzz of people.

I kissed him. Sweet cannabis stained tongue. I took his mouth into mine and held it, like a breath underwater.

I chose my own drinks, paid for them myself. Counted coins and pinned my hopes on you and your fake ID.

I remember it well. No force. No bait. The chatter of strangers in a cramped kitchen as I tried to sleep.

I left the door unlocked. Would anyone? Footsteps on soft carpet, quietly caught me, unawares.

Hands and tongues carve scars into my body. The kind that don't turn silver and fade. A permanent reminder of Hell.

Something changed within me that night. A new found fear. Sudden terror at an innocent touch. The people, too loud. The sun, too bright.

Scrutinising me. Judging me. Burning me down to the bone.

Being right
Is of little consolation
If your being in hospital;
And no consolation at all
If your Being ceases to be!
---------
I'm a predator
Searching out for a mate:
Scrutinising all prey that crosses my path.
I'll eat **** and take what comes,
Or starve if need be - self-satiated -
While I patiently await
That dainty, succulent morsel;
That indelibly edible delicacy
Which my heart so desires.
---------
Airheads to the left of me;
Airheads to the right of me;
Airheads in front of me;
Cackled and blundered!
Their's was not to reason why;
Their's was but to buy or die.
And I...
I just shook my head and wondered...

Sat in the sanctuary of prickly peace.
Pit of sweet slumber.
Scrutinising the rain as it paints ornate pictures on my window.
It's calling out.
Glass glimmering.
Pane quivering to the beat of the raindrops that pound.
Beating the window, before greeting the ground.
Bouncing and dancing as whirling ballerinas.
Facetted diamonds.
They're dripping from fronds.
Hanging from ferns.
The rain's falling fast in sparkling wet gemstones.
Having a blast.
Twisted on wind.
Winding and crashing.
Hear them calling clamorously,
Hail us all warm dry cab.
For soon they shall be melting.
(C) LIVVI

The beautiful, green scaly skin of the devious snake
Was always prepared to rear its ugly head,
A grimacing, smirk plastered on its face
As it glided, lusting after its prey.

Eyes locked,
Scrutinising every movement,
It crawled out of its pit,
Attacking with its sharp, venomous teeth.

It ripped, shredded, and devoured
All with a menacing grin on its face,
The poison was seeping,
Taking over the body, slowly, painfully
As the snake just watched bashful and happily.

And all they could do was watch in agony, wishing that she would escape the constrictions of the cobra buried deep within her.

I awoke unhinged, just as the curtain in the back room,
The pale blue reminded me of what the sky could be,
When it didn’t look like gloom.
Single fabric rippled against a windowpane,
Mocking me in my solitude,
Ridicule for my foul mood.
Their twin horrified,
Scrutinising during a manic moment,
Keeping themselves securely tied.
I’m sure they look down on me as well as their sister,
The pair of us once neatly laced, now dishevelled-
Result of a nasty hormone blister.
But their sister and I
Bathe in different consequences,
My being suffers from the inevitable expenses.
I sink, I don’t float.
I seethe, I don’t sway.
I’m real, I’m forced to feel.
The curtain has no eye that aches,
No grease ridden hair, or skin that flakes.
The curtain can easily be pushed back in place,
Unfortunately, with me, that fails to be the case.

You took what was rightfully mine
forcing words into my mouth
pulling at these limbs like I was a puppet
turning me into something not human
making me believe I was utterly worthless

I became the problem as the blame fell on me
all our misfortunes and failures were my fault
I was the monster hiding under children’s beds
howling into the dead of night

You restricted my growth
forcing me to kneel at your feet
there I begged for your forgiveness time and time again
filled with guilt and shame
watching the broken mess we had become
wondering where it all went wrong
how we wandered so far off this path
getting lost in the bitterness and anger
our hearts turned cold
veins filled with each-others poison

Fighting fire with fire
striking a match and standing by as everything we had burnt
this thing that we created was not the product of love
but of hate and resentment

We turned green eyed in this feeding frenzy
hungering for one another’s flesh
viciously tearing down these walls
infiltrating each-others vulnerable minds

You had my slowly beating heart in your hand
but instead of nurturing it
you blackmailed me
forcing this mind to become tethered to your own

Whenever I looked over my shoulder
I saw you
those cold eyes scrutinising every single action
and interaction
filtering the words that came out of my mouth

I could feel your nails digging into my flesh
as you forced yourself on me
your warm breath still lingers here
I have tried running
but these chains prevent me from ever getting far
a truth I cannot escape and
a past that refuses
to let me go

The scars you left behind are a permanent reminder
of all that transpired here
the sins we committed hand in hand
ensuring each-others demise

You broke me and I am still trying
to pick up the pieces
rummaging through the rubble
trying to find something beautiful again
a piece of this canvas left blank

Your shadow will always
linger at the corners of my mind
but I have found a new strength within
a resilience emerging from the broken
and heaven forbid
you try
and
take that from me

This story
is
still
meant
to
be
told

As the darkness sets
And the mist rises
My eyes shift to the image of you

My soul creeps to find peace
How should I tell it
that its peering
In a bloodied place

I detach my eyes
From your distorted image
Fragments of you
fading elsewhere

Stop scrutinising
Nothing can be found
Nothing but the nothingness itself


The day feels heavy today
My shoulders and knees weak
Maybe closing my eyelids would be of aid

I feel alone
Again

Why am I not enough to help myself?
Cant I be enough?
Oh why do I rely on you?

With a mind dense with fog
Thoughts carelessly thrown around
I know not what to do

Im a standby in my own brain

What if there wasn’t a word for everything? And no matter how hard you scraped against the insides of your brain, all you are left with is a handful of bloodied pink flesh. Some feelings are better off left as they are; hidden away from prying eyes. To expose them is to reveal the root of the word. It is to stand naked in front of a crowd as your imperfections and perceived blemishes are slowly and deliberately picked to pieces by scrutinising eyes.

By Rachel Goddard

The reels are rolling,
once upon a time there was high,
now money is depleting before my very eyes.
I increase the odds,
believing it’s my turn to win,
instead all I feel is shame,
beckoning me to do it all over again.

All I wanted was to get out of debt,
instead my losses were creating more regrets.

Today my secret was laid bare for all to see,
I feel naked, ashamed,
frightened of the outcome,
third parties scrutinising my mistakes,
the stigma to much,
I can no longer take.

It feels like giving birth to a demon,
this ***** debt I have incurred,
the pressure of keeping my head above water,
swallowing and choking ,
I cannot be heard.

When your debts are high and your mood is low don’t go there,
your cries won’t be heard.

Trust me you will get ****** in by a small win,
please don’t ever go there,
remember,
the house always wins!