DaydreamingOfMurder

Friday I held someone in my arms and felt the whole world there. Saturday I mourned for myself. Sunday I learned how to make myself throw up. Monday I didn't speak to someone the entire day. Tuesday I realized my relapse. Tuesday I wanted my razor. Tuesday I begrudged myself 80 calories of applesauce. Tuesday I wondered if the walls are thick enough to practice Sunday. Tuesday I mourned for us. Tuesday I gave up.

Is no place safe? Is there no such thing as sacred? You were gone. You left. Walked away with  Sorry  for  Goodbye. You didn't look back. Here I am now in the place I thought safe. Drinking Peace Tea like cheap whiskey. You already left once. Can't you just leave me alone?

The sound of crickets The smell of your cologne The seashells you brought me from Florida The color orange The music from many different bands The red dress I wore to Homecoming The stuffed animals you got me The top floor of our church The smell of damp grass on a breezy night The taste of Peace Tea The swings in the city park The old pictures The Christmas card your family sent me The picture inside that card The response notes to letters I wrote you The broken plastic in my memory drawer The crumpled drawings on the backs of worksheets This list

Dear J,       I'm sorry.                 Love,                 E

I've tried again and again to figure out how to write down the proper words to explain how I'm feeling right now. To myself, to you, to everyone. But nothing seems to be right... So, I guess the only thing I really know how to say is this: I wish I could hate you.

Promises I made myself when I was younger: • I'll never do anything sexual with anyone until I'm married. -I don't need to be physically involved to be happy. • I'll never have an eating disorder.  –Starving is not beautiful. • I won't use makeup. –I'm beautiful. I don't need it. • I'll never like girls. –Boys like girls, and girls like boys, and that's that. • I will NEVER have a manipulative relationship. –My mom went through that… • I will never develop an addiction to drugs, legal or illegal. –I don't need that kind of trouble. • I will never break the law. –I d

Tasting the soft fire of your lips My pale fingers wind your hair around a spindle and pull tight Your gasp is a baby's first breath, so surprised You clutch me against you, magnets with reverse polarity, and cling I empty my lungs against your neck, bite gently You cry my name, kiss me softly Always softly; too softly You'll never love me roughly enough Feeling the burn of your fire on my tongue Tasting the heat of your skin; your nails find my skin and trace flames Draw me close; a conflagration between us Your mouth presses a hot brand against my neck as your teeth gouge into me My fingers dig into your shoulder; I thrust mysel

I'm still trying not to feel anything. I'm really, really trying my hardest not to feel the fire, like capsaicin injected directly into my veins, or the cold; icewater poured under my skin. I'm struggling to ignore the knotted tightness in my stomach, the pain that spikes under my rib cage; I thought my ribs were supposed to protect my heart. But, I hear you say that you love her, and even though I'm so happy that you're happy, selfish me is inside, crying and screaming that it should be me; I should be on the receiving end of those words, and it tears me apart that I'm not. And I'm trying not to feel it. I'm trying so hard that it's rippin