1: go to London
2: meet someone who’s autistic
3: see POTO onstage
4: meet me! ha ha ‘Me, Or Someone Like Me’
‘So, this is my first day back in CO and it’s so weird. It’s alarmingly dry..........and like, there’s so much food at the house. Whyyy???? It’s overwhelming, shocking and sad. Liquid eye liner writing on arm. I never have this much food back at my place. Of course, only 1 person lives there. Me. My computer there is dead grrrr. There’s so much more...........stuff, I guess. I need a razor. Stupid door lock that doesn’t work. But, my sister’s here. Yay! Well, now she’s currently at work. I’m back here for ‘spring break’ but it still feels like winter. I wanna go to the mall and............yeah, to deal with all this. But, that’s how I got banned from Macy’s. Grrrr. It’s either that, foodbinge or cutting. I could go to........I don’t know. I think I’m banned from the library as well. I guess I could go online at the house but noooooooooo. Paranoia. Or actually I could go on the computer in my room.
So Karma n I went out and bought...........food grills, cooky sheets, oven mitts, straw holders, a blixer, purple squishee ice cube trays and doggie mints. I want to ship all of that but the doggie mints, cuz they’re not for me. But my mom says that’s too expensive, to ship things. Well, and yet she’s willing to pay extra money for my college, me living in FL, the surgery..................and she won’t pay to ship things. Well how am I supposed to get it in my suitcase then? Without like, taking some of the other stuff out? My mom’s like ‘well Mike’>my dad ‘could help you’. Um no. No one a; goes into my room and b; helps me pack unless it’s my sister esp. my dad. Well, I might as well start packing other stuff. Nothing else to do. Sigh. Ow my teeth hurt. Such a minor thing. The only reason they hurt is bc they’re attached to something. Else. Whatever. Such a minor thing.
The packing thing is going to cause some commotion I can already tell you that.’
‘So, I think I’m getting my period, which means I feel crappy. Ugggggggggggg. The cramps aren’t that bad though but........yeah. I don’t know what to do to-day since I’m banned from certain places. I guess I could go home and pack but I don’t really want to go home. Cuz then I’m just kind of stuck there being bored. I could buy ...........stuff. I don’t know. I luv the cards they have here. I might end up buying some of them. And then later on, a smoothee. And maybe I’ll wander around Bed, Bath & Beyond. Since I’m not banned from there and I really don’t know what else to do.
So to-day I went to Target w/ Karma and Flossy McGee’s with her. That place is weird. They have 2 coffins! And giant fluffy tutu petticoats. And a giant wooden horse............thing. I wanna shoplift just to help me deal w/ this crap but I’m not going to. Er, I would hope not. There was no one in the store cept the lady by the counter and Karma n I.
So then we went to Devil’s Food Bakery. Mmmmmmmmmmm cake. Then I had the surgery confirmation. Uggg. Don’t want that and haven’t ever. I wish there was an awsum hippie store around here or something.
So yeah this is really boring. Later on, Karma n I are going to see Black Snake Moan and then she’s going to help me pack. Well, I want her to, anyway. That doesn’t mean she will.’
‘’space’ or ‘changes’ makes you think of Bowie
‘circles’, ‘yesterday’ makes you think of Joni Mitchell
Sarah McLachlan is the modern day Joni Mitchell
Your sister tells you ‘I don’t have money’ and you reply with ‘we always get in for free’ and then she’s confused>this happened to-day.
Your sister says ‘you’ll see’ and you say ‘on paper gaurentee’ and she’s confused
‘let’s‘ is immediatly followed by a; ‘do it’s lets fall in luv’ or b; ‘go fly a kite’
Signs you’re a movie/musical freak
When some one says………
‘join us’ and you automatically follow with ‘leave your field to flower’
‘rivers’ and you think of that song
‘think about’ the sun pippin
‘I had a knack’ and you say ‘from way back for breaking the rules once you knew the game’
‘this is weird’ and you think ‘very weird fukin weird’…
‘light’ and you think ‘got a light?’
‘anyway’ and you think ‘at least the room stopped spinning’
‘will I’ and you think of that song
‘thelma & louise’ and you think of ‘did when they got the blues’
‘swan’ and you follow with ‘dove into the courtyard’
‘moon’ and you think of ‘over the moon’
‘candle’ and you think of ‘light my candle’
‘santa fe’ and you think of the song, not the place in new mexico
‘to wine n beer’
‘im mad’ and you immediately follow with ‘youre mad were all mad here’
‘flowers’ and you think; ‘you can learn a lot of things from the flowers’
‘the other side’ and you think ‘the other side of what? The mushroom of course!’
‘vanilla ice cream’ and you think of the musician which leads you to think of that song and that leads you to think of david bowie’s ‘under pressure’
‘changes’ or ‘change’ and you think of david bowie
‘this is’ and you follow with ‘ground control to major tom’
‘mirror’ and you think of sarah mclachlan’s album ‘mirrorball’
‘all I’m sayin’ and you continue with ‘is give peace a chance’
‘power’ and you think ‘power to the people’
the word ‘because’ and you think ‘because of you I never stray too far from the sidewalks’
‘here I am’ and you think of the Kelly Clarkson song
‘therapist’ and you think ‘your their=rapist sweet pea’
‘yesterday’ and you think ‘a child came out to wander’
‘don’t cry’ and you think ‘for me argentina’
the word ‘downtown’ and you think of the petula clark song
‘look at this’ and you think of that song from a little mermaid
‘look at me’ and you think ‘im Sandra dee’ which leads you to think of the movie ‘beyond the sea’ and you then think of ‘finding nemo’. Or, of that song from mulan.
‘ophelia’ and you think of Shakespeare
‘bubbles’ and you think of ‘finding nemo’
‘at last’ and you think of that song by etta james
‘money’ and you either think ‘it’s a crime’ from pink floyd or ‘we don’t need any money’
‘cod’ and you think of Mary Poppins
‘cats’ and you think of ‘cats’
‘crazy’ and you think of that one song
‘and then’ and you think either ‘out of the abyss’ or ‘the men’
‘lets do it’ and you think ‘lets fall in luv’
‘night and day’ and you think of the Sinatra/cole porter song
‘somewhere’ and you think either ‘somewhere out there’, ‘somewhere over the rainbow’ or ‘somewhere, beyond the sea’ which leads you to think of ‘the little mermaid’
‘you think’ and you think colours of the wind
‘heaven’ and you think either ‘heaven I’m in heaven’ or ‘heaven bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire through the long awaited answer and the pain that I desire truth be told I’ve tried my best’
‘I see’ and you think of the song ‘what a wonderful world’
‘whats the time’ and you say ‘well its gotta be close to midnite’
‘whats that’ and you say ‘a……….candy bar wrapper’
‘whats that’ and you think ‘playing on the radio’
‘traditions’ in a sentence and you want to blurt out that song from fiddler.
‘girlfriend’ or ‘you look familiar’ and you think ‘you look familiar like your dead girlfriend’
‘sunrise’ and you think of that song from fiddler
1: calls you at 2 a.m. you think ‘its 2 a.m. and she calls me cuz im still awake’
2: you keep having to remind yourself to ‘breathe just breathe’
2: your mentor says ‘in the evenings’ and you immediately follow with ‘ive got to roam cant sleep in the city of neon and chrome’
1: you tell everyone to ‘follow the rats’ and realize this isn’t a sinking ship
2: someones leaving and you say ‘I thought you were leaving. Wait I don’t have to leave you have to leave this is my part of the ship’ even if youre nowhere remotely near water
1: you hear something about ‘drunk’ or drinking’ and immediately the song ‘lachaim’ runs through your mind
2: talk of the jewish religion immediately brings to mind ‘fiddler’
1: the word ‘space’ makes you think of david bowie
2: when there’s a pause in conversation you think of the simon & garfunkel song
3: you’re thirsty and you want milk and then think of elsie from over the moon which leads you to think of Wallace n grommitt.
4: when walking on something yellow you sing either ‘follow the yellow brick road’ or ‘I’m walkin on sunshine’
5: kansas makes you think of wizard of oz
6: when you’re swimming you think of that song ‘explain it to me’ by liz phair
7: someone says ‘total eclipse’ and you either think ‘total eclipse of the heart’ or that song from ‘little shop of horrors’
8: you see Diet Coke and you think ‘in cyberland we only drink………diet coke’
9: someone says ‘eek’ and you think of the tv show
10: someone says ‘ribbons’ and you think of ‘brown paper packages wrapped up with string’
11: ‘monster’ and you think of ‘monsters, inc’
12: someone says the word ‘feeling’ and you think of the song ‘flashdance’
13: you hear ‘last chance’ and you think of that song
14: someone says ‘pluto’ and you think of the Disney character
15: shrinking makes you think of the tv show ‘honey I shrunk the kids’
16: honey makes you think of Winnie the pooh which makes you think of the indigo girls
17: ‘oh dear’ and this makes you think of ‘doe a deer a female deer’
18: ‘chicken’ makes you think of girl, interrupted
19: someone asks you how old you are and you want to respond with ‘im 19 but im old for my age’
20: the word ‘fiddle’ makes you think of fiddler
21: ‘cleared up’ makes you think of the song ‘I can see clearly now’
22: ‘rainbows’ make you think of wizard of oz
24: the words ‘circle’, ‘game’, ‘yesterday’ and ‘appease’ make you think of ‘the circle game’
The word ‘kissed’ has you thinking of the little mermaid.
The phrase ‘impression management’ has you thinking of the French impressionists
The word ‘theatre’ has you thinking of londons west end.
Pee wee baseball has you thinking of la vie boheme
Signs you live in florida
1: you find it strange that its winter/cold/snowing everywhere else
2: people find it strange that you can go swimming in “winter’
3: youre surprised at how alarmingly cold it is once you get to Denver
Signs youre from Denver
When you get to florida….
1: you wonder where the hell the mountains went…….im still trying to figure this one out
2: you learn that umbrellas have an actual use
3: you keep expecting it to snow
4: you realize the world isn’t entirely composed of white people
5; you wonder why the sidewalk abruptly ends
6: you wonder how on earth people can mow their lawns so much
7: you realize that not everything is within walking distance
8: you wonder where in the hell the buses went
9: its really weird that you have to keep buying food
10: you now understand that you cant buy fruit loops/lucky charms
11: you wonder how on earth it can possibly rain so much during the summer
12: you realize since it never gets cold in fl no one needs indoor malls
13: you find it bizarre that people don’t recycle
‘Rules Of Life started February 21, 2007
1: Whatever you do don’t get caught
2: Never run from, or resist, the cops
3: Never drink cholorox
4: Never ever sniff Midol. It fukin burns. >I learned this last night.
5: Never sneeze underwater. Apparently, it hurts. >I learned this from my father.
6: Never ever stay up until 6 or 7 a.m. if you have school that day
7: If you’re going to fight, fight on level ground.
8: If you’re female always carry a whistle
9: not everyone knows what trivets are
and undeserving. and fat god am i disgusting. not like i deserve food. or love. food love. all i feel i deserve right now is pain. lots of it. but even that................can be suffocating. like hugs. suffocating air squishing airtight so tight you cant even fukin breathe................hugs. god if i werent so damn tired id be cutting the flesh on my stomach or my hips right about now just cutting cutting away the fat that makes me so ginormous and disgusting. but i am incredibly fukin tired. ugg. people are going to tell me im not fat. how the hell do they know. because they dont see what i see what i know to be true. diary of an anorexic yeah thats my life story. oh god i hate myself sometimes i really do. but fat people can be lovable. people keep telling me im pretty lies theyre all lies.
‘I wanna luv my tomatoes I wanna teach them to fly red I luv my tomatoes until the day that I, die..:
Got the feeling to luv them they are tomatoes they are good and I luv them
Whats that playing in tomato-land
Something that they only understand
They are sitting there on they’re vines
But out of them you cant make wines
Theyre tomatoes to me theyre so squishee to me they are red and I luv them and I’m dedicating this song to my tomatoes oohh tomatoes
52500 squishee red things
52500 squishee red things
The tomatoes are on vines and they are small and large and its time for them to be picked off the vines
Ground control to Major Vegetables
Ground control to Major Vegetables
This is ground control to Major Vegetables
tomatoes are yumee and they’re in my tummy
I’m heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere I am eating my tomatoes
They’re red and squisher-lee
Winter’s coming round and tomatoes will go down ‘
‘Well I feel like I can’t vent anymore. To anyone. Mainly bc one of my really good friends isn’t listening to me. And, neither is my mother. She says she understands but I don’t feel she does bc she hasn’t changed. And I know she’s not going to. But, I keep hoping she will even though then I’ll feel guilty. It’s all so frustrating.
And I’m confused over a friend of mine.
And, I want to get high. Or drink. Yes even though alcohol is a depressent. Or cut, which I might end up doing anyway. I just need something that can help me deal with this ****. This tremendously overwhelming.........everything.
So, I went back up to CO for the break. There is so much food, even if it is for 3 people. Well, 4 now that I was there. It was insane. It’s like, my mom was using the food to hide emotions. Too much of it, actually. And, I felt like I didn’t deserve that much food. Food love, or lack thereof. And since my mother was the one who had bought it............there ya go.
So I guess for the summer I have to go back to CO. Which I really don’t want to do. So much crap happened there...........the violation. At least here, I can start to deal with it, and it didn’t happen here. But there.........oh god. So many memories so many limitations. My mom doesn’t know this. Course not.
Ow. Everything hurts and I am so tired. Not just physically but.........well I guess drained would be a better word. It’s the weekend and I luv the weekend. I suppose all this will be gone when the sun comes up. As it always is. And then night comes and it’s the same damn thing.
I’m so tired of living. I’m just stating that...............just to say it.
Yeah I guess the best advice would be to take it one day at a time.
Where the hell do I start? ‘
‘So, Meg told me that she was having ‘problems’ with some friends of hers, something having to do with relationships. To me, that’s not a real problem. She doesn’t know what a real problem is. It’s a frekin relationship! Grrrrrrrr..........I now completely and fully understand what Kate meant when she said that she doesn’t like it when people don’t have real problems. It’s like braces. Cutting hurts a lot more than braces do I can tell ya that much right now. People kept asking me if my braces hurt. For the first day, yeah. But I also have an extremely high pain tolerance. And the thing is, that I was sitting there with 29 cuts on my right hip when they asked that. NOTE: If you didn’t want to know that then you shouldn’t have read this entry. It’s your job to censor yourself. Or, not censoor yourself. It’s not my job. But I know that after the surgery my mouth is going to hurt. And, I won’t be able/allowed to eat. Even if I choose not to eat it’s nice ot know that I still can. Well good thing I like smoothees. And then I have to have
braces yet again. Grrr. I never wanted the surgery. Like anyone gives a damn. I plan to sleep a lot after the surgery, actually. According to Karma, my dad kept telling her how brave I was to have the braces. Omygod! To me it’s I have to have braces and that’s the way it is. It’s not some giant earth-shattering thing.
After you’ve been violated, nothing hurts as much as that did.’
‘braces yet again. Grrr. I never wanted the surgery. Like anyone gives a damn. I plan to sleep a lot after the surgery, actually. According to Karma, my dad kept telling her how brave I was to have the braces. Omygod! To me it’s I have to have braces and that’s the way it is. It’s not some giant earth-shattering thing.
After you’ve been violated, nothing hurts as much as that did.’
‘if we tell people to stop doing certain things, such as drugs and whatnot, then are we really accepting them? There’s no right or wrong answer.
I mean, I understand we don’t want them hurt/dying bc of their habits, but on the other hand aren’t we just making them angrier by telling them what to do/not to do which makes them not want to talk to us? ‘
‘But is it? Hmmmmmmmmmmm..........according to Ms. Janis Joplin, yes. And, Kurt Cobain once said; “it is better to be hated for who you are than loved for who you are not”. Is it? Because no one wants to be hated. But, if you take that side of the argument, yes, you’re hated..............but it’s for being honest. And that’s always a risk someone takes when being honest with others. I know this from talking with a friend of mine. If a person thinks that no one loves them......well, maybe they need to take a look at themself. Is it because they’re not the ‘real’ them? They’re not completely honest with others, with the world.................with themself. But it’s always v. difficult to be honest with oneself. As Shakespeare said: “to thine ownself be true”. Well, easier said than done. A lot easier. And Robert Frost said: “I took the road less travelled by and that has made all the difference.”. It’s very, very hard to do that but in the end, it’s worth it. Or is it?
Again, there’s not a right or wrong answer. Just something to think about.
I wonder how all these dead people would feel if they knew we were quoting them.’
life as the fat queen
lotus flowers dripping black
blood from seeping hips
giant pelvic bones
not much skin in between
fatness overruling the fact
I can feel my bones
like that of a cow
that of a dancer
remembering that time of age 14
and missing it
where it was how it went
so many things have changed
now, its just
life, as the fat queen.’
‘The tv’s screaming out from the living room
My white bedroom doors open.
My bed is a mess
So is my sink it desperately needs to be cleaned.
Sugarless Reese’s are horrid
Aw man. Ow. My neck aches.
I hope I’m not sick again.
And so it starts.
The thoughts the memories the triggers.
I’m so fukin tired.
I put down the computer on my bed and remind myself to come back.
And write what happened.
I don’t know why my neck aches.
I swing my legs over the side of my bed, computer still on my lap.
I’m slightly dizzy.
I swear, as I start to stand up.
I wonder briefly if I’m going to pass out.
Whiteness is all around me.
I put a hand on the closed bathroom door leading out into the hallway to steady myself.
I open the bathroom door and the smell of the bathroom hits me.
I need to clean that as well.
Seems everything’s a mess
Just like my life.
I guess that’s why I need to cut
So everything can be organized again.
I breathe, close my eyes and inhale hoping for the dizziness to pass
Here we go.
I start to get up and steady myself on the floor
Then try again.
A sound escapes my mouth.
I need someone to lean on, literally.
I retreat to the kitchen to get popsicle sticks for unmentionable reasons
I can’t cut in a bathroom like this.
I have to clean the toilet.
Then throw up in it. And clean it again.
I stand up and the first thing my eyes rest on is the purple flashlight.
I organize the bathroom a little but I don’t think its good enough.
Story of my life.
I wanna pass out and have someone take care of me.
Maybe I’ll OD tonight I’ve been saving it
It’s so hot.
Tv’s still on.
My hand grasps the walls, then the door as I steady myself in the bathroom.
I pick up the razor between my very short fingernails
which don’t need to be cleaned.
I breathe and think about all that has happened
Suddenly become more depressed
A few minutes later, it’s over. The cutting. The before and after.
I still feel really dizzy.
Some stupid kids show is on tv now.
3 words come to mine.
Disgusting and fat and happy.
God I’m tired.
Something occurs to me;
When I found out about the violation, I was disgusted. I feel disgusting, but not because of that. Because of my anorexia.
I’m really tired, which, is good, in a way. This means I won’t freak out over the dizziness.
I want to tell someone that I cut.
Kid’s shows are stupid.
It’s not real life.
And it makes me sad.
Just like my anorexia.
It’s the saddest thing I know.
I guess I could get up and change the channel.
But id rather stay down here.
I look down at my hip.
Red, pink marks but no blood.
It doesn’t hurt now.
But it will hurt like a bitch later.
I want………..someone to touch my cuts that ive just made.
And be very gentle with them and me.
But no ones here.
I have no idea what time it is.
I want someone to hold me, in the white silence. And I can sleep against her breasts. A girlfriend or,… a friend.
I just want someone here. Right now.
A really good friend.
I hate being lonely.
Now the tv people are singing. My mind screams at them to shut up.
I sort of want to put it on mute.
I get up to do so.
Almost falling against my bedroom door in the process.
It’s now silent but it feels like there’s still noise.
I don’t want to tell them about it later I want to tell them about it now.
I don’t know when this poem will end.
I don’t even know if it matters.’
I feel like drowning in emotions
Cuz nothing’s going right
Theres a whirlwind around me
I’m being swept away
Some trash is recycled
Some water pulls.
People bleed in to the ocean
Saltwater tears come down
On the days when it rains everything cries.
The moon draws you toward the water
The world’s spinning in circles
The hurricanes must die as I wait for the calm in the center
But it never seems to come
I wish the wind could lift me up and I could grow my wings again.
There’s beauty in the darkness
The stars look so inviting
I finally sleep.
I lean back against the couch coushins and think about all that has happened recently all I’ve been through. I want to cry but cant. I breathe in and swallow back my emotions, then again. I have trouble swallowing, my tongue goes to the roof of my mouth. I make a small noise, a whisper like thing and wonder if she notices. I walk into my bedroom and think what if this room was filled with candles? Lavender ones. I breathe in as I type, remembering the summer lilacs in our backyard back in Denver. I haven’t seen lilacs in such a long time. I love the way they smell.
I love fire. But I also hate it. I grew up with forest fires around me. I love candles, small fire. They’re so beautiful and fascinating.
I listen to read her read her story as I think of one to later read to her.
Things changed today. I cut, for one thing. Twice. But, I wrote about my feelings before I cut, which I’ve never done before. Just, a bunch of words that don’t really make much sense. And for another, I talked in therapy about something that I don’t usually talk about that much. I am so tired of therapy and talking about my feelings, emotions. How much can a person possibly do that?
As she reads it, I get pulled into her story, into the world that it presents. I feel so incredibly drained. I want to go into the bathroom and sit naked, in the bathtub with the door closed, knowing the whiteness is around me but closing my eyes and seeing only darkness. I don’t think there will be water. I’ll just be there, cold and time won’t exist.
I walk back into the living room and notice the yellow flowers against the stark white backround of the wall. The colour gray enters my mind. I don’t know why.’
……………….the series of dots
Maybe this entire page will be composed.
And blood enters.
Scene 1 act 1.
Of? I don’t know.
Quoting part of a line from night at the museum.
Owen Wilson is hilarious.
I could use some comedy right now.
Whispers say it in whispers so you don’t disturb the peace the silence.
I feel like I’m being watched and I have no one to talk to
because apparently no one answers their phone anymore
I‘m too scared to call someone
As much as I want to.
Random thoughts entering, passing through my head.
There’s nothing there, you say
To me there’s everything.
I hear them
They drive me insane with paranoia
Wait. I already am insane. Or so I believe.
Went insane when I was 15.
The cement walls underground alley maze.
I hear a noise, from outside, and it scares the hell out of me
I stiffen, for a bit
I try to breathe since I don’t have any other options
This is what it’s like for me
I’m fukin scared
Oh. It’s just a fly.
I inhale. Exhale. With, relief.
All the lights are on, that’s not it.
Maybe, this will be my explanation.
To…for my therapist.
I thought I heard a whistle. Another noise.
I wanna scream at them to stop it.
That would cause quite a disturbance.
I have to remind myself to breathe.
This doesn’t happen as much as often as it used to.
I could call my therapist. Hell I could call anyone. But that doesn’t mean I will.
Like many things in life take it or leave it.
It’s a phone number.
Only parts are……….i don’t know.
Some of my poems don’t make any sense. But at the same time they make all the sense in the world.
Im 19 and im still scared.
I hate being alone at night.
Get a pet. A cat. I luv cats.
But…then id prolly…………it would die.
That’s the first thought that enters my mind.
Of, losing something.
All living things die.
I have to regain…keep my composure.
What am I going to wear tomorrow?
For the show.
I’m a pretty rational person and that would be……….not, rational. Freaking out over something like this.
But ive done it before without understanding.
Well, today, rather.
The sun will come up soon enough.
This is what happened during the summer.
Im actually kind of tired. And, sad. Depressed.
I need a hug.
But whos there?
I heard a door.
I, wanna be able to understand whats happening to me. And, so I can…I don’t know.
I decide to unmute the tv and suddenly realize im hungry.
Maybe ill be so tired that the night terrors will go away, eventually.
The sound is on.
I hate this.
But im not crying yet which is good. I think.
I think about calling Lindsey. Its 10 after midnight in Denver.
A question occurs to me; why would you need an air freshener for a convertible?
I think about calling Lindsey and how our conversation will go. Im hoping she wont answer so I can leave a message. “hi Lindsey its anne. i…im having night terrors, mild ones. Please call me when you can. Thank you.”
But, if she calls, I don’t know what ill say. Or if she answers. I wonder what time she goes to sleep.
But, id want her to ask questions, and…………not, necessarily offer, give advice.
But I don’t call her. Maybe tomorrow. Or later to-day.
Im actually really tired.
I see the puffs commercial and think of my question, and the answer to it.
I wanna get high.
This is why I need wine.
I want to write. For………..i glance at the time, the digital computer clock which is one hour late, one hour ahead.
For, the next hour or so.
I think I will.
‘IM burning in the land of time
Im burning in the undermine
Im so thin I can see my own ribs in the bathroom mirror
Which I look into quite frequently
Its half past 4 in the morning as im writing this down
Burning black charcoal thinking of that poem
Burned myself before with water ‘
‘I here im sitting here watchin another episode of the cosby show and wishin I could call someone but I cant bc no ones awake except me at this our. At this half hour I correct myself.
You don’t know what its like to live life as the skinny girl and have everyone see you that way when you think of yourself as fat. so you don’t eat which makes you even thinner.’
‘Barbed wire houses fences from iron glass rooms protection
Thorns surrounding her but shes perfectly sane in her world of cutting blood
The razor goes straight in and takes her away with it
To the land of completely dark rooms where only she exists
Her dark hair falling her curtained face
Black velvet curtains take her away
The bloodstains on the most beautiful expensive luxury item
She passes out the velvet cradles her like nothing else ever could
She crushes the heavy drapes although she doesn’t weigh much
She falls asleep in a sea of velvet razorblades.’
‘1. 6am is when you go to sleep, not when you wake up.
Instead of falling asleep in class, you stay in bed.
You know how late McDonald’s, Taco Bell, Qdoba, etc. are open.
You check Facebook/Myspace more than once a day.
Your trash is overflowing and your bank account isn’t.
Your breakfast consists of a coke or cereal bar on the way to class… anything with caffeine will do.
Quarters are like gold.
You try to study but seem to procrastinate by eating, going to study breaks, talking to people, etc…
You see people you know you’ve met but can never remember their names or how you know them>ihate that.
Your idea of a square meal is a box of Pop-Tarts.>ha ha quite literally
You recognize the meat in the dorm soup as yesterday’s meatloaf, and thus decide to eat a nice bowl of cereal - a safe bet for any meal.
You use words like “thus” (see #11).
It takes preparation… and 3 people… to take out your garbage.>well it hasnt yet.
You start joining clubs because of the free food.
You stay up late to finish homework then sleep through the class in which it was due.>ha ha how ironic
Care packages rank right up there with birthdays.>yay!
Anything can be cooked in a microwave.>omygod the best invention ever!
Going to the grocery at midnight is completely normal.
You can’t imagine life without your computer/cell phone/ ipod.
A canceled class is almost as exciting as Christmas.> yayyy!
Your teachers swear in class and no one cares.>ha ha
Candles in your dorm room are considered contraband, but cigarettes are ok.>this is incredibly ironic.
You take condiment packets and napkins from fast food restaurants - hey, they’re free.
The elevators take forever but you’ll wait 10 minutes just so you don’t have to climb stairs.
Class size doubles on exam days.
You’ve ever stayed up all night just so you wouldn’t sleep through your morning class.>yes.
27: getting up to eat cookees is considered a form of excercise
28: you realise you need to change the lightbulb in your fan which has been bugging the hell out of you for days. but havent changed it yet. bc you’ve been putting off reading chap. 6 of your sociology book.
29: you realise there’s a reason stores are open 24 hours, besides shopping’
‘She breathes as she tries to combat her anxiety
Her thoughts drift again to the razorblade
She knows exactly where it is.
On the white countertop, to the right side of the sink in her bathroom which is right across from her
With the matching white door wide open.
Wide open what an odd expression.
She needs a hug and someone to hold her and tell her it’s ok that it’s going to be ok.
But no one is no one has no one’s going to because no one’s there.
Except for the tv people but they’re stuck inside that stupid box.
And they wo’nt be of much help they’re all too happy.
They keep repeating ‘one of us’ and her thoughts drift to the Joan Osborne song
Think about it; what if god was one of us?
She notices the time and realizes the stupid show is over.
And hears the woman’s fake kid voice.
Another tv person says ‘it’s your turn’ and she thinks ‘my turn? For what?’
Then follows with ‘for cutting? Hell yeah it is you’re absolutely right’.
Her back hurts, in front of the giant blue pillow that she’s resting it upon and she winces in pain a bit.
Loneliness lost inside her quiet tired silentness.
Once again she’s drained.
That lost little girl inside of her.
She wants needs to be held.
She’s been feeling that way a lot lately.
She wants someone to take care of her, the way a girlfriend would, or a really good friend.
Loneliness seeps in.
A quote enters her mind; ‘it’s always darkest before the light’. What light?
Suffering quiet anxiety.
She’s dangerous but placid. Vapidly tempestuous.
The sorrow is killing her.
The ripped ominous clouds of her rain gushing inside her blood.
Poisoned beyond belief.
It’s not even light yet.
She wants to sleep but she can’t cuz then she’d miss the day.
She doesn’t give a fuk anymore.
Society can rip her apart and she’ll still be beating and living.
Who would want to hug the fat queen? The graceful dancer who’s vastly thin.
The internal bleeding can stop now.
Black sunflowers enter her mind and her grandmother’s porch turns to gray.
It’s all black and white anyway with a little bit of gray.
‘God that’s sad’ she thinks as she reads back the poetry to herself.
It’s painfully honest.
She wants someone to be as kind to her as she is to everyone else.
As warm and loving.
Life’s not going to work anymore.
She’s waiting for the light so that she can sleep
But she can’t sleep because she has stuff.
What, a bloody fukin contradiction.
Poems go on forever, if you read some of Shakespeare’s.
She wishes the tv voice would shut up. She could go and mute it.
This is how it is for her.
She wants to scream
But silence is there.
The sound of silence is sometimes the most beautiful nonsound in the world.
She goes to turn the mute on.
Stupid tv people.
She swallows back tired tears and wants to punch something.
The house quickly becomes filled with empty vast silence.
She wants to take a sleep in the bath and forget about everything else for a hundred thousand years.
She’s so very tired.
A series of dots enter her mind.
The mind of the one who isn’t there.
Half past 6.
She notes the time.
And the thin gold line on the floor in her high school.
The thin gold line at the circus.
She hates them.
The tightrope that’s what it’s called.
‘slash your grocery bills’ makes her think of slashing her wrists instead.
She realizes how much life sux and how small we all are in this galaxy of blue-black bruised fish.
Swimming in a sea of black blood in a black and white musicless silent movie.
She has a morbid obsession with lightbulbs.
And her mind drifts back to that night.
She again wonders if she could stay up 24 hours.
Hugs to the squishee tomato people.
She smiles at her love of the tomatoes.
In tomatoland waiting to be eaten. By her.
A car rolls by, seeming incredibly loud in the silence.
Her right tendon hurts.
She sighs, from the bottom of her toes.
Empty flesh beneath.
The loneliness is horrid cold gray London weather in the winter distance of frozen time.
She realizes she’s not making any sense.
She wants something to hug.
Marshmallow winter people.
Her mood lifts, but slightly, just slightly, just oh so ever so slightly.
Something makes a bizarre noise.
Blooded dots on lily petals the story of her forest mind.
Disgraceful people ruin the earth.
But no one who is watching.
Random thoughts pop into her head and she turns them into poetry.
The stupid tv people went away.
The razorblade’s no longer very triggering.
Polka dots of butterflies.
Breathing in and it’s a good kind of quiet tiredness.
The fridge hums but doesn’t say anything.
Hums reminds her of hummus.
Gentleness is for cows.
Her love of cows makes her smile.
Cows, eating giant tomatoes.
Which don’t have toes.
And needles can’t see.
Like a bunch of lunatics playing with fukin pickup sticks.
A noise escapes her nose.
Giant muffin people.
She loves her mother’s muffins.
On Saturday mornings.
Breathing in and it’s a good kind of quiet tiredness.
The fridge hums but doesn’t say anything.
Hums reminds her of hummus.
Gentleness is for cows.
Her love of cows makes her smile.
Cows, eating giant tomatoes.
Which don’t have toes.
And needles can’t see.
Like a bunch of lunatics playing with fukin pickup sticks.
A noise escapes her nose.
Giant muffin people.
She loves her mother’s muffins.
On Saturday mornings.
She’s really tired but incredibly calm.
This is one long poem.
Now she’s just bored.
She could go to sleep. She wants to.
In someone’s arms.
She wonders what other people are doing up.
It’s now 7.
A horse of a different colour.
What does that mean?
It’s weird how many clear sounds you can hear in the dead of night.
But it’s now morning.
Not a particularly good one, either.
Same shit different day.
Where did everyone go?
She knows where the tv people went.
It suddenly occurs to her how weird it is to never have slept at all.
The fridge is quiet.
Where did the sun go?
Ghostly thoughts enter her mind.
A car starts somewhere down stairs, and it frightens her, slightly.
She breathes, again.
Thinking this is possibly the longest poem she’s ever written.
Shakespeare’s tempest Ophelia’s tragic beautiful minded soul.
Something else ticks very quitly.
Realizing that’s not how you spell quietly.
Which she spelled correctly in the line above.
Something else is ticking like a rhythmic metronome.
A series of quick short ticks.
Up in Missouri.
She smiles at the memory.
Maybe she should end the poem now.
But she doesn’t want to.
Eventually. She will.
What if poems never ended?
It’s finally getting light, that light blue-gray-white lightness of the beginning of the morning.
Everything’s safe the night terrors are gone and she suddenly painfully misses those summer mornings.
That was one of the best parts about the summer.
She wishes she could still smell coffee and muffins.
Knowing her parents were up.
Even if she didn’t like them they never got along.
It was that magical time.
Her muffin coffee wonderland.
-march 12, 2007’
Depression lodged in the pit of her stomach
Waiting for the sunrise
So she can sleep.
The silent cynical voice that whispers
On the edge of nature’s breakdown
Thinking about glass bottles knowing exactly where they are
Where everything is.
She draws in a……sketchbook, shaky breath
And then, lets it out
She wants to cry
But can’t quite reach the dark core of her soul where the tears are kept.
In a beautiful mahogany cabinet.
The glasses are made from tears turned white and dotted, stained with blood from her really bad nights.
‘here’s what’s inside my soul’ she thinks and whispers it, to no one
can hear her
Cuz she’s the only one in the room, in the apartment, maybe even awake.
She wishes the aches would leave
Be put away locked away kept away
Just like the memories and pain she causes people
Without ever meaning to.
Each time she cuts each time they know about it
So, she’s decided not to think about it.
Or is it?
She feels, sick
And realizes she forgot to purge.
She gets up to do so.
She mutes the tv even though they can’t hear her through the box.
It’s still dark out. She can only do this when it’s dark.
She doesn’t close the door of the white bathroom
Opens the white plastic, sits on the floor, leans over and……….nothing. Nothing happens.
She closes the top, and puts her arms on top of it, leaning her head on her rarely bare arms.
Thinking how she failed the rules of girls with eating disorders.
She waits for the aches to stop, but they don’t.
She doesn’t have meds for them.
And being in warm water would just make her sleepy.
She goes back to the bedroom and leans against her pillows
Pulling the covers over her legs.
And gets as comfortable as she possibly can.
It only hurts when she breathes.
Maybe she shouldn’t breathe.
But that, would be madly uncomfortable.
She needs sunlight
Not, just so she can sleep
But also, to wash away her aches.
Maybe she’ll have to depend on something else, instead of her friends
Shes slightly dizzy and breathes and closes her eyes to clear her head.
Eating disorders once again.
She still has organizing to do, before ‘they’ come.
Which means, no sharps out where theyr’e easily found.
The mint green box will have to move to the unused closet in the empty unused room
So will the light bulbs and her book.
She hates this, this hiding things from them.
But they don’t understand and she doesn’t want them knowing.
It creates a huge amount of stress for her just to hide all this crap.
She looks at the time it’s almost 7.
She waits on edge of orange horizonal sunsets.
A rare occasion of light.
After they leave
then she can stop hiding her imperfections.
She doesn’t want to be perfect for them, or anyone.
Trying to make peace with the world through her own destructive habits.
The razorblade’s her means of communication, her scars, the red ones
In the most unthought of of places.
Words repeated like so many memories and tragic flashbacks
Which haven’t happened for awhile.
Depressions gone, for the time being.
Time doesn’t exist when you’re in white plastic bathrooms.
She questions her own reality the disillusion of time that people see when they look at her
A Picasso painting in the cubist era
Her mind is distorted and confused.
She now has muffin fat.
No one wants to hug a muffin they’ll squish it
And/but not in a good way either.
A question enters her mind; would you believe me if I told you?
She entitles the poem as this.
Nothing makes sense everything’s a lie that they tell her.
Staying up 24 hours seems morbidly impossible.
Walking on the horizon on the edge of reason
Which is what, exactly?
She wants to be a witness to someone else’s pain.
She sees that light that she saw yesterday, the light blue one
That starts each day.
And memories come back to her with a pangful pain that wants her to cry to cut
She’s incredibly fukin triggered.
The depression, returns with an ominous thump
She watches the blue and sees black through the blinds
She’s tired but not that much.
She asks again. Well?
She’s impatient for the answer.
Would you believe me if I told you?
That……………….i was fat
I saw myself as fat, enormous, disgusting
Saddest thing I know.
Maybe everyone wants to hug muffins cuz they want something to squish.
Life is hard enough without all the shit she’s been through.
The sky turns pink, slightly.
If no one will listen to her here, then where will her screams ring out?
People choose, to bury their heads in the sand.
Damn ostriches who can’t fly.
Ignoring what’s real and pushing back the curtains of fake happy smiles.
The most tortured place on earth is inside her own head.
Sleeps meaningless and everyone gets fuked eventually.
Some, worse than others.
She happens to be one of them.
The tv people left maybe they died. Ha.
In her most morbid mind she hopes so.
Her poems can go on forever but life ends eventually.
What is it like to die?’
‘Razor packets: Warning: sharp
No duh. I mean, really. That’s why I bought the damn thing!
yes let’s hope so. When it’s cold outside wouldn’t you want something hot to drink?
On Nytol Sleep Aid: “Warning: May cause drowsiness.”
(One would hope.)
most brands of Christmas lights: “For indoor or outdoor use only.”
(As opposed to what?)
On a container of salt:
Warning: High in sodium!
yeah well that’s half of what salt is made from.
On a container of lighter fluid:
WARNING: Contents flammable!
On a knife sharpener:
Caution: knives are sharp.
(what and i just bought this to do that) ‘
‘’actually 3, but one of them was minty and one was chocolate. but the other was just regular. so would that be 3? or 1. but wait…oreos come in bags, right?’ - karma’
‘So yeah I had a bad day but I’m really glad to be back in my apt. Wow I’ve been up 24 hours almost. I ..........think. Which is weird. I have no sense of time whatsoever though. I’m tired but I’m not. I’m so tired that I’m not tired. However much sense that makes. Oh God it was so weird though. Earlier to-day Iwas having lunch at the college and my body though it was night. But, with sunshine. Anyone who’s lived/is currently living in Alaska knows this feeling. Well, or anyone who’s stayed up for an extended period of time. The best possible way I can describe it is surreal. But I know that if I sleep I’ll be out. Which is a good thing, I guess. Maybe.
So yeah this morning, at 9 a.m., I cut. On my leg. It was pretty bad. Well, worse than my other cuts. But the bleeding didn’t go on forever, which is good.
And apparently, my therapist can’t make it cuz she’s sick. She sounded horrible on the message. Which, is really disappointing.
So then there was the whole weird-tiredness-thing walking to the college and having lunch there. I had a giant banana nut muffin>ha ha yay squishee muffin people!>and Raspberry AZ Ice Tea. A bee was flying around me. I think it wanted my muffin. Or my tea. Both of which were very good. The muffin was large, but filling.
So, then I went to Sociology. I got a D on the test scantron thinger. I got the same grade on the last one, too. Our teacher says that if that happens he strongly, strongly recomends/suggests that we withdraw from the class. Well, I really like it though and for once this year I feel like I’m doing my best and I actually don’t feel like I’m never going to be good enough, which is a really huge/good thing. And I’ve only missed about 2 of the class. And it was only 2 test grades. But, as everyone knows, tests are a big part of your grade. So, that got/made me disappointed in myself. But Idinno maybe this’ll be/turn out to be a good thing, I just can’t/don’t see it right now.
So, by the time class ended all I wanted to do was go to the b/r. And not for the usual reasons. To cut/purge. Idinno I’ve been feelin kinda sick lately but that might just be cuz I have more dry mouth than usual. Ewww.
So, I couldn’t even cut correctly. So I’m thinking ‘why am I such a screw up god why why what is wrong with me I can’t even cut right’ type of thing.
So then I went home and was really glad to be back in my apt.
So yeah, that’s basically it.’
‘i dont deserve anything but pain so let me be let me suffer. cut and die open up white under skin. gross disgusting but isnt that what i deserve? after all so am i a whiter shade of pale. fat disgusting who wants to hug a fat muffin queen? wouldnt they all be disgusted by how enormous i am? or, at least thats the way i see myself. its so frustrating. eating disorders.....not the best thing in the world to have. you probably think im alarmingly small, although youve never seen me. i just want to die right now. and not from mortification. you dont see me the way i am and not just because of the food thing. im a liar. an actress, makes it less bad less shocking. when youve grown up acting its the only thing you know. forgive yourself, you say you tell me. you dont seem to understand that i cant. whats wrong with wanting to be something youre not? i just wanted to make sure she knew who i was i didnt mean to stir up trouble. i never mean to. i even managed to screw that up. guess i really am a screw up. self abuse thats what its called. my mother.......i hate saying she abused me. it sounds so wrong so horrible. which it was. is. and then theres the rape. violation is a better word. and my dad lying to me when we were in ireland that summer. thats the only time i can ever remember him lying to me but he always was the type to bury his head in the sand. he thought i couldnt handle the truth. i was 14 i wasnt even cutting at the time! i wasnt even like..........this. protection. and yet he didnt use protection when he raped me. he didnt rape me, that way. but he did tell me not to scream. yes and thats all i want to do right now. he silenced me just like everyone else in this fuked up godamn world. no wonder i feel like im living in a silent movie. the only things heard are images, cuts and even those get ignored. if lying, acting is all you know how are you supposed to resolve it? it makes sense to do what you know. thats one way to try and forgive yourself. easier said than done. ‘
‘Ok well, the only way to get scissors out of their damned package is if you already have scissors. You could use a knife but uh I don’t really recommend that.’
‘see, what happened in Ireland was that my dad>grrr>he put a um pot>pot he he. ok sorry had to do that.>a tiny pot by this um little garden. we left it there overnight. this was when i was 11 or 12…in middle school. and, so the enxt day we came back and what i found out later was a gold sequin, was in it. so, some time after that, my mom/dad told me that my dad had put the sequin in the pot. cracks the hell ^ at the mention of potlol.
and, i didnt like hearing that. esp from my dad, of all people. i guess he still wants to protect me......which, is understandable. so much for the magic of ireland. my mom would NEVER do something like that. ever.
and so it makes me wonder what else he lied to me about?
he always was the ‘friend’ parent. i hate admitting how much he hurt me.........or any man, for that matter.
pot. he he. random funnyness. ‘
‘well right now i’m listening to Simon & Garfunkel. ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’. I luv this song. Well, I like all their songs, but esp. this one. It reminds me of my mother. She was practicing it for her choir when we were driving in a winter storm. A good memory of her. ‘
have been hell. Oyyyyyyyyyyy vey. Sigh. So yesterday which was wednesday i think......idk......the parents came down here, ‘into town’ as they say. I think I missed tutoring or something. I really can’t remember. They brought the blixer and the awsum straw dispenser. Um we went shopping. God CostCo is frekin gigantic! A person could get lost in there. And knowing me I prolly would. Hehe. Oh bloody hell we bought so much food, both at Target & CostCo........5 microwavable pastas, 3 boxes of LunaBars, 1 box of SouthBeachDiet Protein Bars, lets see um 8 yes 8 boxes of this frozen Indian dinner, 1 orange, 8 VitaminWaters, 3 boxes>yes they come in boxes now>of fruit punch, 1 box of tiny tomatoes, 1 giant box of granola bars and thats really all I can remember. So then we went......um out to dinner I think At Mac. Grille where they have gigantic portions and teach you Italian in the bathrooms. Huh well you might as well be learning/doing something interesting while you’re going to tbe bathroom. They got cool b/rs. And giant food. So now I have even more food.
So before we went to Mac. Grille, we took out the trash. And god I had a lot.
At Mac. Grille I had uh a mango Italian soda, which was strange/ok and bowtie pasta with black olives n tomato sauce.
So, with dinner my dad had a beer. And then he had some kind of drink with alcohol in it for dessert, which I think is called choclit liquoer.
Mom; ‘you know youre driving Anne home, right?’
Me; ‘and i really dont feel comfortable taking a taxi’
Mom; ‘youre not gonna take a taxi’
Me; ‘I know I’m just putting that out there’
Uh so to-day, er yesterday, actually, we went to The Foundation For Independent Living, or the FFIL as I [like to] call it. Their website is www.flinc.org. It was.......ok. Lots of older people. They were incredibly friendly! Which is really weird. It’s like ‘um why are yall bein so nice? Shouldn’t you like not............be? Why are you talking to me?’, etc. Wow theyre friendly everyone wanted to talk to me. It’s a v. small community, which I didn’t like. They have this big meeting/living room there. I kept expecting to see an anorexic young woman doing ballet using the couch back as a bar and everyone else watchin t.v. It was Girl, Interrupted>luv that movie!>+senior citizens’ home. They’re too structured and apparently no one is allowed to stay home during the day, theyre not allowed to have internet acces in their apts. and they got too many rules. For one, you cant have any weapons. First off, being a cutter that’s extremely hard for me. Er, would be, anyway. And secondly, anything and yes I mean literally anything can be used as a weapon. Either for yourself or others. Er, not that I suggest it but if any of yall want to ask me any questions about cutting go right ahead. I just may not answer them. Heh obviously. Idinno can you send messages on here................?? Idinno.............
I guess I cut because.......well a; it’s organised. b; it’s controlled, c; it keeps me sane, d; after i cut i can finally breathe, e; i honestly can’t remember right now. ................................oh right. Now I remember. It’s something I do for me. I know not all of you may not agree, as I don’t always agree with other’s choices. But, you know, please try to respect my decisions.
So yeah those are the reasons why.
Uh ok getting off track..........................
So, before we went to FFIL, we got a new tv for me. BC the one I had wasn’t working. But the one I have now does. Yay! I watch way too much tv........but sometimes, it’s nice to not think about you, your life, your problems. And, it makes me laugh. Like ‘Friends’. I really like that show.
Uh so yeah to-day, er yesterday, actually since today’s ummmmmmmm actually I don’t know. Damn. Is it Friday already?
Well, yesterday The Parents were at my place, and my dad said ‘I’m going out to get a beer’. There is absolutely no alcohol allowed in my apt. Unless it’s brought in by me. Ha ha not old enough yet. And that’s a rule I decided. I don’t have that many rules.
Me; ‘no, you’re not’.
Him; ‘yes, i am’
Me; ‘no, you’re not’
Him; ‘well im your dad so its different/ok’
um noooooooooooo. it’s not. How the fuk is it different?
And no, its not ok. Stop trying to make everything ‘ok’ dad cuz its not gonna work. I’m sorry. This is my apt. and ya, youre following the rules.
Wow. I nevvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeerrrrrr say stuff like that. I never tell people no. I also told my dad to stop fixing things. Which, he did. Guess maybe he has to be doing something??? IDK.
You can’t do drugs in my apt.>ha ya i kinda broke my own rule there. well, kind of. Um dont wanna disclose that info thanks.< Well, er, anyone. If you’re gonna smoke do it on the balcony. Um, and as aforementioned, no alcohol. The Parents are NOT allowed in my room, either the one here or up in CO.
The Gentleness Of Butterflies March 17, 2007
It had been a really bad night and I did not want to go to school. It was a bad night because of my 3 hour cutting session. The bath tub, my bathroom was a complete mess. My parents hadn’t said a word. Not to mention the fact that when I woke up that day it was snowing quite heavily. So that only meant more cutting. As many layers as I put on I was still cold. And distant. Like the season like winter itself. Cold distant beautiful. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that life was going to get better. I didn’t particularly like the way things were going right now but it made it more interesting. Depression is intense clarity. My school didn’t have metal detectors or X ray machines, thank God. Or else everyone would know. I didn’t need anyone. But that was my way of lying to myself, and others.
The entire day, through frozen timeless winter, I felt like I was being followed. I looked behind a few times and saw a dark figure but it wasn’t until later that I found out who, what and why.
I was in the bathroom and I had just finished a cutting session. Everything stung like hell. I had dropped one of my many razorblades on the floor. It made a clinking sound. It was so incredibly quiet in the bathroom that any noise seemed alarmingly loud. The metal peered up at me from the brown cement floor. I thought of how much it would hurt if someone were to be slammed down upon the floor, either in a self-destructive way or in a fight. I didn’t bend to retrieve the razor, or slide my boot over it. First off, I didn’t want whoever else was in the bathroom to know that I was a cutter, because I didn’t know what their reaction would be. And secondly, because I didn’t want them to see the black bracelets over the gauze that wound around my wrists so the cuts wouldn’t itch. If I scratched them, I knew that I would only make it worse.
I stepped out of the stall, composed, as if everything was fine even though it wasn’t. Dressed of course, in black,. I went to wash my hands. During that time, someone else came in the bathroom. A minute or so later, she returned, holding my razor blade. She looked at me, and smiled. She was very pretty.
“Hey,” she said.
I wanted to keep my distance as much as possible but I didn’t want to seem rude.
“Hi,” I replied.
She held up the razorblade, asking; “is this yours?”
She seemed very nice, and genuinely curious. But I had learned better than to trust people based on first impressions.
I shook my head, looking down at my wrists. Or rather, the gauze bracelets that covered them.
“No,” I replied.
She waited, didn’t leave, didn’t walk away. I could see this was not going to be easy.
She placed the razorblade on the edge of the sink, coming very close to me which made me extremely uncomfortable. I shrunk back, drew into myself, became withdrawn.
She stepped back a few spaces. I felt better, a little.
Why are you waiting? I wanted to ask her. Why haven’t you left yet, like everyone else?
But I said nothing.
She waited, again, while I kept expecting her to leave. She waited until I was done washing my hands, then stepped forward.
“I’m Willow,” she told me.
Why was she telling me this? No one ever talked to me.
“Hi,” I said. I realized then that she might want to know who I was, as well. “I’m Lily.’
“Lily…………Lily,” she repeated; “the death flower”.
This made me gasp, a little. I wanted to open up to her, but I didn’t want to get too close. She seemed to know it all, with that one comment. The death flower. Suicide.
She had soft thin waves around her face. She was thin, about my height, with dark brown eyes. She was wearing a silver butterfly necklace, as was I over my black ribbed turtleneck.
“You know, Lily,” she said, looking at me; “it’s ok.” I was slightly confused. She knewthis and continued; “I do it too. I have cuts are almost as bad as yours.” This felt a little invasive.
She took off her coat, revealing a brown top with slightly puffed short sleeves. Red lines, dried blood were crisscrossing her arms. I gasped, shocked because someone else did it too. Not because of other reasons. She put her coat back on.
“So, it’s ok.”
She then left the room, leaving me alone with my razorblade and what I had just learned.
And It’s Hard At The End Of The Day
IT had been a very long day and I was in the bathroom stall, sitting down, cutting, as usual. The door was closed but not locked. I was curious to see who would find me, come in. I was hoping it would be Willow. This time, I sort of wanted someone to find me.’
Last updated November 12, 2016