i apply shaky nail polish and walk over my stained carpet for orange juice. fashion magazines and tv are my pass-times. i twirl in dresses nad play with children. you are just like me. i wear too many necklaces and laugh loudly. i am never at the back of the line. i love kitty cats and i want to visit tokyo. soda hurts my stomach, and i eat pizza a lot. i wear ribbons on my shoes and on my head. there are so many women out there that i admire. i want to be outspoken like them. i want to live with passion like them. sparkly heart-shaped sunglasses cover my swollen eyes, to hide me from a world that is not made for someone like me. or perhaps i am not made for this world. i have found out that smiling does not make a difficult life easier.

occasionally, comfort is handed out in the words:
it has to get worse before it gets better.
it directs a stressed mind towards a future that is believed to come
however, the illusion of better is required for thie comfort to be delivered.
the better would not be as comforting without the turmoil it liquifies.
better is relative.
anything would be better right now.
just make it end
i dont want the promise of something great.
just better.

its not like im hungry, but i like to chew anyway.
it gives me something to focus on. something familiar.
i feel as though im always craving something,
not sweet, not sour,
just an intense desire.
a void it fills me with, confusion that follows, and finally
long periods of isolation trying to figure out what is wrong with me.
but no matter what pops into my head, the satisfaction everytime remainds the same.
sure, candy rots my teeth. but i brush. and i floss. like a big girl.
and yet, my cravings persist. immune to ice or rest.
kids with sweet tooths know that handling the pain gets easier with time.
but, what if all one craves is the sweetness of indulgence?
an isolated reward becomes easily addicting.
it births a trade: if you want me then you can have me,
but be aware that this will bring pain.
even more pain that you began with.
it rings the question.
why do i continue to consume?
the numbing of the agony introduced by the constant experience makes my candy the most effective at instant relief.
so what if i lose a few teeth?
i wont feel it happening.

dandelions
let go of your petals, and become everything you dreamed to be.
you represent wish, a life that comes after your yellow vitality.
to be blown into the wind is to survive yourself
with a generation born from your lust for life.

then, instead of hitting rock bottom...
it kept sinking.
i didnt know it could get this dark.
if loneliness doesnt kill me,
hypothermia will.
nobody's anchors...
not trained divers...
not flashlights...
nothing could ever reach me.
my lungs can not expand as they used to.
no creature beneath me is as curious of me
as i am terrified to find myself alongside them.
a heartbeat can be detected,
but not signaled.

everyone, in their own habitats,
with instincts, predators and prey;
follow me, some say. i see a lot of myself in you.
it was easy for me, one animal says, confused. ive been a giraffe my whole life.
i cant tell you that hon, only you can know yourself.
thus starts the cycle of requests for a predictable future,
high stakes compare and contrast.
i grew up in a birds nest,
i found myself a jellyfish last year.
swans seem to carry a similar life to this,
and my family would like the fact they are feathered.
but being a swan takes a specific,
eleganct type of patience in a person.
im not graceful, or smart, or well off alone.
i actually dont know anything about myself.
how will i know what shape i take,
when i do not know what it is like to be one, just one?
exhausting trial and error,
but everyone seems to get it on their first chance.
even though i am the subject, everyone seems more intent
on observing and directing my expectations rather than
guiding and listening.
i must respond.
(there is a drawing that accompanies this piece.)

i just dont have it in me anymore to save myself. i have no feelings left inside me. i am a machine. there is nothing else i know. i just need you to make decisions for me. i cant make any more. the easiest ones hurt.

can i live through this? be allowed to have been in pain? be allowed to be in just as much pain as everyone else? can i struggle in front of eyes? will you avoid me, for how dirty i am? can i be happy with this? having lived through this? im just not sure. you make recovery harder. i dont like how you follow me everywhere telling me how weak, useless i am. you remind me of all of it, because you were there each time i fell. you helped me, i took care of you- so why do you stay bothering me? i cant hide myself from you. you follow me in the mirrors, bathrooms, beds, showers, meals, lovers. do you have to stay? what is the most time youll interrupt a conversation, a moment, a day? i never get used to you. we get older together, but you dont get any quieter when you speak. when im alone, i wish it wasnt just you and me. when we met, i didnt expect you to stick around like you do. i guess we will never forgive each other. we will never forget each other, and you will never leave. i wish i responded less. and i wish i wasnt so thankful for keeping you around sometimes. i wish crying was enough and i wish i didnt see you everywhere.
(there is a drawing that accompanies this piece.)