Torn

Have you ever wanted to move on
But your heart wouldn't let you?
No
I don't like him that way
I have standards
"Like?"
I hate brown hair
Under 6 feet
Musicians are fucking psycho
There's not a X, V, or Z in his name
And there's a U after the Q
"Those aren't standards, you're a picky bitch."
My heart stills reads Skyler Raye
"Sky's heart still reads EX."
Blah Blah Blah
"It's okay to have a crush."
I DON'T HAVE A CRUSH
But I should
Here I am
With a guy I find very attractive
Who I think I have a chance with
And I'm finding excuses
To why it's never gonna happen
What am I so scared of?
Could it be possible to replace my Raye of Sunshine
With a Ray of Sunshine?
Or could I just wash my hands clean of it?
Pretend I never thought sinful thoughts
What the hell am I so scared of?
I could move on
Succumb to their teasing
And find happiness
Or I could bask it what will never return
Why do I keep choosing the second option?
It's like I'm fighting with the me inside my head
Half of me wants to replace him
Half of me refuses to move on
Half of me says he's not good enough
And half of me says I  don't deserve anyone at this point
By the way, I'm two whole people
According to that equation
What am I so afraid of?
If I move on
Does that mean what we had is dead now?
And that you're permanently gone?
I gave you parts of me
That I gave no one else
If I give myself to him
Does that mean it wasn't special with you
And that it's not special with him?
Does that make me a whore?
Easy
What am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid I lost my best friend forever
And by letting you in
It's confirming it

Crisis

Everything is in order
Everything is perfect
Going fine fine fine
Black
Time of crisis
Revert to panic mode
Everything is gonna be bad
I'm gonna be here all night
I'm gonna die
I'm gonna die
I'm gonna die a virgin
I never made peace
With the one person I ever loved
And I'll die without that
Hurry up
Hurry up
What's happening?
What's going to happen to me?
LEXI WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
HURRY THE FUCK UP!
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!
The power has returned
And I think that shocked me just as much
Causing a mini heart
As I praise the Lord
For coming back just in time
I wish I could handle a crisis better
And not revert to panic mode

Gentlemen

Intellectual intercourse
In a cashmere sweater
Now I really have to pee
But pee doesn't come out
I said no to the world
To my friends
To my family
To you
And the fact you respect that
Makes you so much hotter
That was the best night of my life
My dream come true
Dancing and screaming
As my hero stood on stage and touched my hand
It would have been the best night of my life no matter who had gone with me
But the fact it was you
Puts a little moth in my chest
And a teehee on my lips
%100 real
No faking it
Truthful about everything
Nothing to hide
But you tried nothing
You respected me
I told everyone I know
That there's no attraction
That it's not even a question
Then how come all night
As I layed in my bed
Hugging my Charmander
I pretended it was you
I could talk to you for hours
Just listen to you
Talking about life
Spiritual warfare
Rights and wrongs
Half of it almost made me cry
And the other half
Could have had me on my knees
If I wasn't in a car
It could've been
But I chose it not to
And being a gentlemen out of respect for me
You chose not to for me

Painting Grapes

I remember in sixth grade when I found out her parents had gotten divorced. She has been my friend since I was about 3, we used to go to the same church and my mother taught the preschool there, so her and I had grown up together. Her family had always seemed like the ideal family. Asian dad, white mom, one daughter, one son, perfect straight A students, mom was the homecoming queen and voted most likely to succeed her senior year, they all went to church every Sunday. To the naked eye, they were what every family wanted to be. What my family had wanted to be.

In sixth grade, she told me she was getting free lunches, and it didn't seem to click in my head why she would get a free lunch, both her parents were employed and they lived in a nice house. I asked her why and she explained to me that since the divorce, she had been put on her mom's income early, which qualified her for free lunch. I was shocked to see that such a perfect American  dream had sunk.

Throughout middle school, we had transferred to separate schools for seventh and eighth grade, and were then reunited once in high school. We would usually correspond between letters and emails, and we would send each other copies of our poetry, comparing and contrasting, ripping each other to shreds and praising each other.

In high school, she always wore sweatshirts everyday and underneath she always had a camisole. One day we went out on a lunch date together, but it was too hot for a sweatshirt, but instead of wearing a tank top, she said she 'didn't want to just have bare shoulders' so she borrowed one of my long sleeved fishnet shirts to wear underneath her tank top. She borrowed in again when she wore her short sleeved dress in the talent show to recite poetry and she then hennaed every inch of her arms so anything on then was no longer visible.

The summer before the previous once, I had gone swimming with her in the river and then spent the night at her house, leaving her in a tank top, the entire time. I noticed thick, white, straight lines down each of her arms, they looked like mine, but instead of the way mine blend in with my porcelain complexion, they completely stuck out against her dark skin. I never asked her about them, but later that night when i saw her take a pill for bipolar medication, I felt the need to ask her about that.

One day I was sitting in her kitchen eating, and I noticed all the walls in the kitchen/dining room  were decorated with grape vines. The vines went down and around every wall and there must have been tens of thousands on grapes on them. I asked her mom if it had been the type of stick on application that one buys at a Home Depot and then it looks exactly like paint and she said "The vines were." So, I asked how the grapes were done and she said "I painted each grape separately myself. I went through a time in my life, and to get through it, painting grapes became therapeutic for me."

So, I guess the point of this whole recollection, is I guess that's what I'm doing right now. Group therapy, workbooks, three new prescriptions, counseling, etc. I'm painting grapes. It's going to be boring as fuck at some points, and it's gonna take a long ass time. There are some points where it's gonna be kind of fun, and there are some points I'm just gonna want to give up, because it's goddamn tedious. But once I'm done, I can look at the walls around me and know that it's finally over. That I made something beautiful and it truly didn't take forever to fix it. So, for the time being, I'm painting grapes right now, but I know there is a finish line and in the end it will all be worth it.

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry that I refused to do simple tasks when asked to
I'm sorry that I'm stubborn about doing new things
I'm sorry that changes of schedule and routine upset me for no apparent reason
I'm sorry I wore grey pants when you said wear black
And that I wore a striped sweatshirt when you said solid dress shirt
I'm sorry I splashed you once or twice because he splashes me much more every night and I thought that was what I was supposed to do
I'm sorry I got food on the floor when I had to dumped 104 trays of food into a bucket in half an hour without dumping in silverware and garbage as well
I'm sorry I gave you attitude because you wanted me to watch a movie I hated
I'm sorry I can't stand any of your music
And that you can't stand any of mine
I'm sorry that I don't understand how to do basic math and science
Yet I know quantum physics and psychology
I'm sorry I cut your hair too short
Even though you originally said buzz it and I thought I was doing my job correctly
I'm sorry I yelled at you
Because you made fun of me too much
I still had no right to embarrass you
In front of all those people
I'm sorry I didn't want to sing second
When I told you every day I sing first
I'm sorry I wouldn't open up to you
When you made me cry in front of everyone
I'm sorry I'm not what you expected
For a perfect student
For a seventeen year old to look and act
I'm sorry I have nightmares about you every night and I can't support my friends if it involves ever being around you
But most of all I'm sorry
For being a human being
For being a child who never deserved what you threw at me and expected me to be
I'm sorry for ruining festival
Because you took my medicine and way of communicating to my mother
So I got scared shitless and had an anxiety attack on stage
And my hot pink mohawk made it that much more obvious
I'm sorry for spending seventy dollars on that dress to be in uniform
And then have you expect me to find something else to wear
I'm sorry that I was never perfect
That I was a human being trying just as hard as you to get somewhere in this world
But you had no right to treat me like you did
You had no right
And I have no reason to be sorry

Next To You

The new girl walks in
A Russian gypsy
Stands next to me
Towering over
And weighing less
The music starts
And the routine begins
It's your first time
And it's my millionth
Yet I'm completely off rhythm
And you're already with the advanced routine
I'm short
Like, one of the shortest here
And I have the second biggest thighs
Short, ugly Manny Santos thighs
Short, stocky Italian legs
Why is every single new girl?
So tall
So thin
So hot
So fresh
So talented
I start to think I'm doing good
Till you stand next to me
I see us next to each other in the mirror
And I feel so sick
I hide behind the instructor
So ashamed
And she says
Move over there
Between Pretty Tall
And Prettier and Taller
I want to see you in the mirror
I wonder if she knows
I don't want to see me in the mirror
I walk into my room in shame
Seeking your comfort
But you wouldn't understand
You're part of the problem
When I walk with you
You stand almost exactly a foot taller than me
Tanner
More lean
I'm pretty sure
My stomach comes out
Further than yours
And my thighs are thicker
If guys really do like big butts
Then I must be the most likable
I hate being me
I hate how embarrassed you must be
Of how I look next to you

Toddler

My short, stocky legs
Thick, full, and shaking
Off beat next to the tall, elegant legs
Of the amazonians
It's like a chubby, little toddler
Wandered onto the runway
Tried to strut like the models
And failed completely
They all smiled
And said how cute she was
But in their heads
They thought, it's not right
She doesn't belong there
Someone control your child!
Take her off the stage!
Tell her where her place is

I see my short, sausagey thighs
Next to your rhythmic
Long, mocha legs
I look back at myself
The colour of cottage cheese
The texture pretty similar as well
I feel so perfect
So ready for you
Then I go out in public
And I see everyone
So elegant, tan, and stable
And when I look at myself
I just feel sick
I can't stop eating
Or I feel sick again
I wish it was easy for me
Like everyone else
I try to move every second
But I get so tired and sore
If you see me as perfect
Why can't I?
Why do I fall off my game
Like a toddler on the runway

Assigned Seats

                I remember when I was 16, Skyler Raye and I had Physical Therapy class together with Mr. VerHoeven. We always sat in the the same two seats in the back corner of the room and there were these two mean girls that always sat on the other side of me. Their names were Ashley and Christine. Christine was so mean and ugly, she had a horsey face and freckles and greasy hair that looked like straw.
                The first week of school I found out Kayli had transferred into the class and she wanted to sit with us. Sky and I got to class early and sat down, and I set my backpack on the desk next to me to save the seat for Kayli. After about ten minutes Christine and Ashley walked in. Christine sat at the desk and I said "Excuse me, I'm saving that spot for my friend." She went out of her way to turn her body towards Ashley and continued talking to her and ignored me. I spoke up a little louder and said "Excuse me, miss. I'm saving that spot for my friend, Kayli. I even put my bag their to save the spot for her." Without acknowledging my existence at all, Christine stuck both arms out and shoved my bag onto the floor. The contents spilled out on the floor everywhere. I stood up and said "Excuse me, you just shoved my shit on the floor and that was really rude." She continued to ignore me. Raye put his hand on my shoulder and just said "Just ignore it. It's not worth getting upset over." And to this day I still not regret doing anything more after that.

Today at school, I left my study room two minutes before break started. I went in Thom's room where my third hour would be. I set up my coat and my bag in the same spot I have sat in that class every single day since I transferred there in September. After break, I went into the class room and Hayley was sitting in my spot. I said as kindly as I could 'Did the fact all my stuff was set up there not give the indication that I was planning to sit there?' She looked me directly in the eye and said 'Did the fact I'm sitting here right now not say that you're not sitting here?' I told her that I sit in the same spot every single day and that I would really like that seat and she told me it's just a seat and it doesn't matter, so to go sit somewhere else. After class started I couldn't even sit down. I stood right there for about 15 minutes, which messed up my knee that has already been acting up. I finally just left the classroom. I went in the restroom and washed my hands about ten times. Then I curled up on the floor shaking, attempting to breathe, and eventually crying a little. I don't understand why if according to her, it was just a seat and it doesn't matter, why it was so important that she stay there.

11:11

What would you think?
If you knew that at 11:11
Everyday
Twice a day
I wish for you
Only you
Never another thing
Would you think I was a freak?
Over obsessed?
Would you think I was a creepy stalker child?
And the tiny bit of a chance I had to be with you
Would be completely gone?
Or would you think it was sweet?
That I thought of you that much
That I really, really cared
And wanted to make things work out
So far no one has caught me
At 11:11
Or the famous five
As my eye lids shut and flicker
And my lips whisper your name
What would you think?
If you found out I set alarms
1 am
2 am
3 am
4 am
5 am
Staying awake an entire school night
Wishing for you?
Would you find it oddly cute?
Or just plain odd?

Scars

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Ali. She loved wearing plaid pants and double shirts and she had long red hair that she wore in a braid and black plastic framed glasses. She would ride her scooter all around town, up and down hills, no matter how high, and she'd ride her scooter around her basketball court singing, whether it was 6:00am or 6:00pm. One day she was going out her back yard on her scooter to go to the Dollar Store. She was wearing a yellow charmander shirt and plaid shorts. She was going down the weird hill between her backyard and the Dollar Store and she fell off her scooter and scraped up her knee. Later she went home and her mama gave her neosporin and she put it on it and it healed up nice and fine, no scar. Later Ali was in sixth grade. It was a half day and it was surprisingly nice out. She wore thin grey tights and a short black dress that tied in the back and black Mary Jane's. She was walking home from school with her friend Corina, and they were hurrying home because Ali's sister Mickey had gotten home from middle school and she wanted to get home as fast as possible and see her. They were crossing the street at a four way intersection on top of a hill and they saw a car coming and Corina said "Quick run!" And then Ali tripped and fell flat on her face. Her forearms got scraped up and the nylons on her knees ripped and the knees bleed through the frayed fabric. That night she took off the nylons(she felt a need to keep them on that long because if she changed her tights she would have to change her whole outfit to match.) and took a bath. Her arms were healed by the next day and her knees looked healed up. One day she was in shorts and she noticed a scar tissue looking lump on her knee. She realized she had scraped her knees up numerous other times, and even though the knees healed up each time, after you cut the same spot over and over, the scars will become permanent.
Ali grew up to be an interesting young women known as Alexis Isabella or Lexi. Sometimes Angel. She sits at her desk with her electric foot massager listening to Key of Awesome while she types this. She still lives with her parents, so she wears bear capris and a sweat shirt even though she's hot because she's ashamed for her or parents to see her arms or thighs. She's cut all the skin off time and time again. They healed up scar free after the first four or five times because she used cocoa butter and neosporin, but after the same spot is cut open enough times, it has to leave a scar.




So, there you go. I realized the only thing I ever put on here is poetry and I thought maybe a story would be good. I know I have absolutely no writing talent when it comes to story format, but I needed to try something new. I hope you enjoyed it.

My Eyes

What colour are my eyes?
I think they're blue
Or maybe they're green
I doubt you know
You think you know me
I've told you a bit
I always look you in the eye
But what colour are mine?
You don't even know
I don't expect you to know
I don't expect you to see
Amber flecked Emeralds
When looking at two pools of vomit
With the dot of a
Ball point pen
In the center of each
So, I got thick ocean blue shields
I lined them with black, black crayon
Thick thick thick
Coated them in powder
To cover up the purple bags
Don't forget the stardust
To cover anymore imperfections
Oh!
Let's re-dye the eyebrows
Draw you attention away a little
I constantly hear you say
How you love the colour of my eyes
But you don't know the colour
Do you?
No chance to see past hazel eyes
When you never knew I had them
Maybe one day when I trust you
I'll let you see my eyes
But right now you are so blind
To even the colour of your own eyes

Confusion

This goes out to all my readers (I think they are two of you.) because I think the sequence of my blogs may be confusing as they're not in order. Basically, I something need to vent and will write poetry directly on here. And then once a week or so, I get out poetry that was written a year or so ago and post it on here. The fact that the work is in so specific order may be confusing, so I just wanted to throw that out there. Oh, and I just looked at the calender while I was typing this, so HAPPY THANKSGIVING! And remember, in Soviet Russia, Turkey eats YOU.

Wrong With Me

You always act
Like you;re going to give me a chance
But then you lose focus
Your mind constantly gets off track
And if anything is ever going to happen
I need to constantly remind you
But I don't want to seem obsessive
I don't want to seem pushy
What's wrong with me?
The other day you admitted
How low you'd be willing to go
So, then how low am I?
I know I'm not beautiful
And I know I'm not smart
But I'm not ugly, either
But I'm clearly an idiot
Because I don't see what's wrong with me
I'm sure I'm missing some huge detail
To why nothing has happened
Short attention spam or not
If I was the apple of your eye
Would I not block out all vision?
I would be impossible to not focus on
The only logical conclusion
Is that something is wrong with me
I wish you'd come out and tell me

Duck Hunting

I don't like to be touched
But this cold air
And this dramatic soap opera
And these pains in my tummy
Just make me want to snuggle up in your arms
But who are you?
Oh, right
I'm alone
I don't know what to do
Do I trudge through the snow?
To reunite with my one true love?
Finally apologize like I should have
And explain myself
That just seems too hard
The second I looked you in the eye
I know I would burst into tears
I would cling to you
And expect you to take me back
I don't even know what I would say
Or how to explain myself
I've been told I'm like a man, in the sense that I can't communicate
Should I do what you told me to?
You said you were 'holding me back'?
That I could and should do better
So, do I go duck hunting?
Do I find a hot duck
To be my new secret agent lover man?
Would I feel guilty the whole time?
Would I just be thinking of you?
Would I even be able to attempt it?
Or would I think of you and freeze up?
You can deal with your problems now
Or you can deal with your problems later
I want to deal with my problems never
I want to awaken to resolution
I don't want to do anything that takes guts or heart
And I don't want to go duck hunting
I want warmth
So I'll turn on my heater
And my electric foot massager
As I sit alone
Afraid to communicate

Dreaming

I dreamt you came back
You were at my door
I didn't know it was you out there
I didn't know you would come in
Why are you here?
How did you know where I live?
I want to tell you how much you ruined me
I want to tell you what a bloodsucking cunt you are
But I just stare
And your giant eyes stare back at me
You nose points at me
And your gigantic mouth is open in that asshole smirk
As if to say "Well?"
As if to imply "Nothing to say?
Because you're weak?
Because you're useless and a fuck up?
And you don't have the guts to do anything?
Why don't you go stand on a stage and make that face?
Cry along with it.
Just like at festival.
Ruin my show and I ruin your life."
I keep saying to myself in my head
THIS HAS TO BE A DREAM!!!!!!
WAKE UP!!!!
WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!!!
WAKE UP!!!!
Hours go by
And I can't wake up
She stares back at my mocking me
Imitating my face
Tears slowly roll down my cheeks
And I can't breathe
After about four hours
Or so
And sleeping through my alarm clock
My mom wakes me up and asks if I'd like to work out
I say no
I attempt to sleep again
And I can't
About an hour later I get up and attempt getting dressed
I've gained so much weight that my clothes do not fit me
I spent hours the night before
Setting up all my clothing and jewelry
Making sure everything matched perfect
But I can't sit down without two inches of bare ass crack showing
I try and change my shirt and jacket
To cover my back
And no other shirt and jacket matches the pants
WHY IS EVERYONE YELLING AT ME?
I change into about five different outfits
Finally, I find the most unflattering
Cold
Ugly
Unmatching outfit
And it is the only thing that still fits me
TURN OFF THE WAR MOVIE AND FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE
The day gets a little better
Then I'm at the store
And I see her pussywhipped gay husband
And her silly pressured daughter
I have too many plans to break
But It's been over nine hours and I'm still so upset
I'm cold and tired as fuck
But I don't want to sleep
Because I don't want to dream
Because you might be there

Break It

Sometimes to fix something
You have to finish breaking it
I was clean for over a year and a half
But every second I wanted to break
To grab my vice
And I regretted every mistake
I had made
I felt like climbing up the rabbit hole was no longer possible
So I'm broken now
%100
Altogether completely
And I realized I can't fix my recent mistakes
When I just ignore the old ones
So, I went back in time
I'm 15 again
I'm ready to fix things
And better myself
Greenday girl! I missed you.
I'm glad you're back
And instead of resenting me
You're so happy I found you
Since you lost my last name and address
And you'd be looking for me to
SUNSHINE DUST
My twin!
I missed you, too.
You're a human again now, as well
And you're ready to join me
No questions asked
So, I can't fix all I've done
Wounds heal
But they still leave scars
We'll never be where we were that night
The plans will never go through that exact way
But if after years it wasn't too late for them
Then after months maybe it's not too late for you?

Saturday Nights

Why does pulling every hair in my head sound so good right now?
I would actually try that
But I appear to have no hair to pull out
Fucking dumbass
Why do I do this shit?
I remember laying on the ground in Mexico
Freezing my tits off
Miserable
Singing Greenday songs with my lost friend
And I think how happy I was
My own little world
Far away from all the drama
Able to cry all my tears out
And be unjudged
I need to get away
This apartment school workplace
Not working out
STOP ASKING MY ARMS
STOP IT
IF YOU UNDERSTAND SO WELL JUST STOP IT
Take it back to Brownsville
Oh yeah
That's why I quit being a missionary
We're perfect christians
But you're different and weird
So clearly you're from Satan
So even though you're in a warm accepting sanctuary
We're going to fuck you over as hard as possible
And hope the misery might make you one of us
Or make you kill yourself
Who knows?
Why can't everything stop?
Why can't all bad memories go away?
Why can't all my problems end?
Why can't it all get better forever?
Every night I lay there shivering
Underneath my jacket and electric blanket
WE PROMISE TO LEAVE YOU ALONE
JUST GIVE US FIVE MINUTES
I'M PUTTING A MOVIE IN
Five minutes turn into two hours
And I ruined everything in the sky
So I have no get away
I imagine suicide to be so amazing
But if I killed myself
No one would clean my room
And that upsets me

Impulse Buys

Every second I think of Skyler Raye
I want to cut off every inch of my skin
I can'teven change in front of a mirror anymore
I see fat
Fat and ugly
I put on a dress unlike me
That suits me and makes me so beautiful
Everyone fawns over me and all I can think it
Jesus Christ on a crutch my head looks so small in comparison to my fat body
Why the hell did I shave off my hair?
What was I thinking?
Now he will never take me back
Alone forever
Cut cut cut
Mutilate
Now I feel better
But no one can know
So, I'm stuck uncomfortable
Under all these layers
BE WITH SOMEONE BETTER THAN ME
I can find no one available
DO WHATEVER POSSIBLE TO AVOID HURTING YOURSELF
Unavailable offer
Buddy's fiance
Not a good choice
Whatever possible, right?
What am I thinking?
FIND SOMETHING TO KEEP YOU FROM YOUR ADDICTION
ANYTHING
PLEASE DON'T HURT YOURSELF AGAIN
YOU HAVE SO MUCH GOING FOR YOU
I just spent over $250 in clothing
That I will never wear
What am I thinking?
And what do I have going for me?
I'm the worst dancer
I give advice when I have no confidance in my words
I make myself busy to avoid hurting myself
But then the work and the cleaning never gets done
That makes me want to hurt myself
It makes me want to hurt myself just thinking
That I lie to everyone
Everyone thinks Skyler Raye and I are together
Happily ever after
I lost the only one who ever knew me
The only I could tell the truth to
The only one who stuck with me
These past three years
I HAVE NOTHING
I AM AS A PRETEEN n00b WOULD SAY
"Epic Fail"
Nothing going for me
I might as well drop out now
I might as well kill myself now
Because nothing is good anymore
I have nothing
And I will never have anything

Excited

I thought
They thought
We all thought
No one could excite
Stoic, little Lexi
No matter how stressed I got
How much I hyped myself up
How hard I tried constantly
We all knew
All this
Was only only for me
No one has ever
Excited me before
So no one could possibly
Excite me now
But when I see his tan
Smooth
Creamy
Olive complexion
So rich
So flawless
Like an espresso I've only dreamed of
I just want my lips to meet with it
For my tongue to slowly inhale
And taste
Every ounce of your being
Your warm
Blinding
Aura
Suddenly I'm excited!
By each ringlet
Dangling like grapes
Off a vineyard
In my own personal garden of Eden
For once in my life
I crave the forbidden fruit
More than anything in my life
This excitement
Getting so stressed
Trying oh, so hard
To look and act perfect
It's not for me anymore
It's not to prove myself
To the world in general
It's for you
Anything you want me to change
Anything you want me to lose
Anything you want to break
Go right ahead
Because you'veexcited me
The first and only
You're worth my all
For you have excited me

If I Were A Boy

If I were a boy
No one would call me a dyke
I wouldn't have to worry about make up
Or perfect hair
I wouldn't have to worry
About wrecking my white pants
About all this constant pain
I could be stoic little me
Without my uncontrollable emotions
I wouldn't have to look up and blink
I could just laugh it off
Without my face turning red
And heating like a flame
I could actually get laid
I get women hitting on me constantly
If this face were on a man
I'd be irresistible
And I wouldn't be so heartbroken
Or my pride wouldn't be so dented
Every time I got turned down
When I wanted to lose those extra pounds
It wouldn't be so hard
Having a six pack
Would be completely possible
Without anorexia
Quite often I wish
That I was a boy
Like a loophole at birth
To grab the y chromosome
The fact that I'm great at working
And not bookwork
Would be alright
And mean something
But I was born a girl
And I will suffer day in and out
Through stained sheets
And indoor plumbing
Through emotions and vanity
To be the girl I was meant to be
And not take the easy way out

The Mirror

Who is this girl?
I look in the mirror
And I don't see me
I see a shaved head
Messy hair
Too much makeup
Blue eyes
I see a trashy slut
I see a homely tomboy
Who was that girl I met in eighth grade?
That girl with her long curly hair
Big glasses
A heart for the Lord
Ready to take care of herself
Never cussing
Never been kissed
I saw her in the mirror years ago
She's just older now
Or did she get younger?
I see the same girl
And yet I see different people
I sometimes can see that girl I miss
I see an innocent little girl
Who just wants to be loved
Then I see the new girl
The one so desperate
That she did anything
Just to get that love
I see the old girl sometimes
When I say or do something
To get me on the right track
To get me better
Then the new girl comes in
And avoids the gym
Because she's afraid she'll get too hot
And when she takes off her sweatshirt someone will ask about her arms
Comes home and stuffs herself full of food she's allergic to
Then misses out on fun
Because she's too sick to go on
I keep staring at the mirror
Who is she?
When will I come back?
Sometimes she comes back
When no one is around
When no man defines me
When I have to not worry about actions
When she's dancing
And no one is watching
And I get that glimpse in the mirror
And I think
That was me
That was ME
Why hasn't anyone else met her?

There Then

Constantine-
The ice breaking and original
Revelutionary and unique
Remember when we'd sing and dance together?
Or play the computer?
Or video games?
I was your Lilah
And you were my Ethan
Except for I think I was the crazy one
But I could talk to you for hours
Just on books
Or on concepts
Sometimes I still miss that
But I no longer need it
But right there
And right then
I needed it

Nny-
You were so much older
So much taller
And so willing to be everything
He wasn't
Even if some of those thing
I really, really didn't want
I was just a little girl
A little puppy
Eager to please
So, even through the hurt
And even through the lies
I pitied you
I felt bad
I wanted to make you feel
GOOD
Even if you forced things upon me
And it made me feel
BAD

Aladdin-
I hated you
You were never nice to me
You went out of your way to constantly
Make me feel stupid
I wanted so bad
To be the girl
The girl who always had the same boyfriend
So, I degraded myself
And found someone who couldn't do this good
To guarantee you'd never leave me
I think in the end you figured it out
You cared to some extent
You knew for me to be happy
You had to let me go

Oh, my Princeton
I don't remember much of you
Not that it lasted long enough for memories
I really loved you, you know
I guess I always will
Even if not in that way
I'd say you have the most guts, though
Out of all the Famous Five
Because you're the best friend I've ever had
And you actually kept it that way
The next morning you'd still look me
Straight in the eye

Lollipop, Gummy bear
My ecstasy
You gave me hope
You gave me power
Power and superiority
I gave you everything I had
Till there was nothing left
I saved you
And I gaved you things
You'd never get before or after
Were you my love
Or were you my charity case?
I think we loved each other too much
Like an addiction
That needed to be ended
We both had to detoxify
Before things got too bad
You never really broke my heart
You simply disappointed me
Which sometimes hurts just as much
But I needed you there then
I needed that love
To pull me out of that hole
And I needed the pain
To push me into reality
Each and every one of you
Had perfect timing
I needed each of the five of you
Right there and right then
I needed each of you there then
But I've gotten older
And each of you has changed
Just as much as I have
I've moved on and come to a peace
Right here and right now
And all I can do is hope the same for each of you

Why do I lie?

Why do people lie?
Don't they get that sinking feeling in their gut like I do
Why do people lie?
The one that makes you puke like you just cheated
Why do people lie?
Do they cry later on
Because they feel so guilty
Why do people lie?

Why do people lie
About silly little things?
Why do people lie
About things useless in the long run?
Why do people lie
About things that hurt others?

Why do I lie
To avoid opening up to others?
Why do I lie
When I feel so distraught later on?
Why do I lie
About where my scars came from
Why do I lie
About how long I've been clean
Why do I lie
And say how great I feel
And then I run off and cry
Why do I lie?


This poem is shit, but I needed to get it all out. And I refuse to tell others. Not only does no one read this, but this is completely anonymous and no one I know uses this website, so I doubt I'll get caught. I just felt so bad today after dance when I was putting my sweatshirt on and Deanna asked me how I got so scratched up. She believed my sidewalk story, but then it seemed almost as if she was sincerely pissed at the cement for fucking me up. It didn't have to do with the fact I barely knew her and it was personal, but that I lied to her and she actually cared, made me feel pukey. I mean, if she looked at the spots the cuts were in, the way one was out the outer forearm and the other arm was inner, the way one was partially healed and one was fresh, and the way they were perfect straight lines, it had to be obvious I was lieing. I don't get why I can't tell anyone anything. I still tell people I've been clean for one year and six months, but my arms say otherwise.
I really feel like it's this lack of being able to talk to people that has fucked me up the ass so much and made me lose the one person who ever meant shit to me. Without my Raye of Sunshine, my Sky, My Air Water, My Juan Epstein, my Pick-up friend, My Puerto Rican Papi, My other half, my one and only, I am nothing. Each day I ask myself, what are you doing? What's the point of being beautiful, if he refuses to look at you? What's the point of deadlines and due dates? I would have killed myself at some point over the past few years if he wasn't there, so now that he's gone, why not?
I find myself getting in fights with the mirror. People think I'm a psycho bitch and I can't say I disagree. I hate myself. I wrecked things. We might have not stayed where I had dreamed of staying, but it would have been better than having nothing and that's all I have now. I was an impulsive, bitchy asshole and now the only person who truly cared about me and the only person I truly could talk to and care about is gone. We both have nothing and it's all because I'm an anxious, impulsivee cunt.

The Girls

I'm the girl
Who lives on a constant diet
And works out for three hours
Every night
You're the girl
Who eats junkfood nonstop
And skips P.E.
Completely slacks off
I'm the girl
Who puts in 110%
Works on her schoolwork nonstop
And pulls all-nighters writing her essays
You're the girl
Who sleeps in class
And goofs off
Spends her time on myspace
And hanging out with friends
I'm the girl
Who spends hours on her hair each morning
And even longer on her makeup
Setting up her outfits in advance
And coordinating down to the socks
You're the girl
Who just throws on a hoodie and jeans
Doesn't need to iron her hair
Or wear much makeup
I'm the girl
Who is still one of the heaviest in her class
Who is weak and chunky
And doesn't run very fast
You're the girl
Who wears a size 0
Who has a flat tummy
Who I know could beat me in a fight
I'm the girl
Who still has incomplete assignments
Who misses half of the work
Who is ridiculously short on credits
And will probably not pass her current classes
You're the girl
Who's probably getting straight A's
Or at least B's
Will not be a super senior
And could be accepted into college
Even though you don't care about it
I'm the girl
Who's just one of the guys
Whose hair is always messed up
Who always gets made fun of
For that one tiny imperfection
And has never had a boy
Really say she's beautiful
You're the girl
Who looks great rain or shine
Who all of my ex boyfriends are in love with
Who could have anyone she wants
And just chooses the losers
And ignores the guys who constantly
Tell her she's beautiful
You know sometimes I wonder
Why its results are this way
It doesn't seem very logical
These unfair results
You know I used to be the nice one
And for now I still am
But it's not fair that I'm the girl working her ass off
And you're the girl getting rewards
I'm the girl
Who stopped crying a long time ago
But never stopped crying inside
You're the girl
Who doesn't have to fake it
Because things are never that bad
I'm the girl
Who's still smiling
Because it's my means of disguise
You're the girl
Who's not smiling
Because they all like you either way

Her Daughter

As much as she hurt me
Crushing every ounce of my soul
And spirit
And after watching every ounce of my self esteem
Walk out the door in her purse
Something hit me hard
Someone I truly pity
Little, tiny footsteps
Dopey, off center eyes
The entire world
Resting on the shoulders
Of a three year old
What if the little one
Isn't a straight A student?
What if the little one
Isn't an eager volunteer?
What if the little one
Doesn't hit the right notes?
What if the little one
Is a little shy?
What if the little one
Is a little me?
Will you treat her like an outcast?
Will you let her know she's a disappointment
Every day of her life?
Will you yell at her
Until she's in tears?
Tell her everything she's done wrong
And make sure she knows it's all her
And not at all you
Or could you learn acceptance?
Could you love her sense of self
They way you never did mine?
Could you except her imperfections
Even if they're harder to accept?
Could you love her for who she is
Even if her hair is messy
And she sings a different key than you
If she doesn't fit the mold for the daughter you've always dream of?
Even if you never treated me right?
Could you at least show that respect
To little Camryn?

Final Peace

That previous post was something I had written about a year ago, when I had what I thought was, come to that official peace with where I was in life. I felt like by blocking him out because it hurt me to see how much he had changed, I couldn't stand seeing him going down this road, so I decided the lollipop I had had was gone and this was someone else. But he's still there and this past summer and fall I have not only seen him, but had to spend time with him. And I'm come to peace with the fact he is still him, that he went through phases. And that both of us still have a bit of an emotional attachment to each other, whether we'll admit it or not. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with the fact that people that were a huge part in my life a year ago, or even six months ago, aren't there anymore. I'm okay living with my mistakes and owning up to each one that I've made. This peace I thought I had come to last year was just me building up that much deeper in the storm and now I think it's hit its final peace.

Dead To Me

Don't say a word
Don't apologize
Don't glare at me
Or treat me like shit
Because you officially
Are dead to me
You died a while back there
But the griefing process has now ended
You're dead
Your glares
And when you look through me
It doesn't hurt anymore
Because it's not you
We had great times
You taught me things
I'll admit to it
But the you I knew
Is dead now
Your emotional cortex
Couldn't hold too much
And collapsed
You never left
You simply died
The real you
Still lives inside me
In my photo albums
And in my heart
But the you I see
Still wandering
Is your soulless corpse
They've played dress up with
And kicked around
If you jumped off a bridge
Tonight
I wouldn't care
Because to me
You're dead already

The Same

I got all the pink out of my hair
Cut it straight and even
Traded my black lipstick in
For sheer red
Trade my purple tripp pants in
For blue jeans
But I'll never be the same
I see girls walk into school
Wearing even crazier shit than me
And everyone loves them
They fit in just fine
People think they're normal
And people let me know I'm weird
Girls sit down in class
Begin to ramble about personal things
That no one needs to know
They say things that can't be normal
They say things that are so bizarre
But the second I pipe up
Silence
"She's so weird"
"Who says something like that?"
"Oh, God. Listen to this bitch."
I don't look or act so different
I don't understand what's so wrong
Each day
When I get to school
When I get to the gym
When I get to dance
When I get to church
When I get to the store
I look at all the other girls and think
Why am I so different?
What's so wrong with me?
What was every girl born with
That somehow skipped me?
Why can't I just walk into school?
Why can't I just walk into church?
And walk into a group of people
And fit in?
I see the grungiest low lives
Walk into a room
And have a group
What's that like?
What's having a 'group' like?
I don't know that feeling
I have absolutely no idea whatsoever
Of what that feels like
I wonder how nice it is
A sense of security
Knowing you'll have some people
If you ever just want to jump in and talk
About whatever substance
Is on your mind
But I'll never be the same
As anyone
Girl
Or group