today i bought bread for the first time in years i feared it for so long i couldn’t eat it without tears.

i hated its oil and its carbs and the way it clings under skin but mostly i hated how i loved it and how i might never be thin.

i was a sliver of the person i am lacking health, mind and vigor but today i’ve made my grief smaller and i have made myself bigger.

so i went to the bakery in the aching morning light they gave me a loaf and soft buns i ate one, my illness despite.

something as simple as bread made me so whole and so warm i hope you’re healing today, too and loving your human form.

She worried that the house would catch fire Or the light bulbs would explode She worried that the lawn would die Or deer would eat her flowers She worried the chicken would go bad Or the tomato sauce would be too salty She worried the roof would leak Or the window would crack She worried about everything So she didn’t have to worry about anything that mattered

We could have had a shot you know But here’s the world laid real low Four years with a caricature. Hands on my eyes - Tell me when it’s over I’ll be off, see you soon Can’t watch this while sober.

so what exactly do I do

if there are three different guys that like me

one who I’d say I’m friends with, yeah, but he’s my friend’s ex, though she wouldn’t mind

one who I’d say I’m kind of friends with, but not particularly

and one who I haven’t talked to in a while with but I still consider us friends, and he’s also the same friend’s ex

and there’s also one guy I like

except I’ve never talked to him, not ever

what do I do

do I pretend like I don’t see them looking at me when they think I won’t notice but I do

do I forget about them and focus on the one guy I know I don’t have a chance with

or do I consider them, the way they look at me, how it makes me feel so good

do I just crave attention

I know I want a man

I know I want him

but it’s not realistic

something’s better than nothing

but it feels wrong

and I can’t just choose between them

I don’t know what to do

I can’t do nothing

it’s eating me up

why do they even like me

that would make no sense

I don’t even know if they do

I’m obviously wrong

I’m not the kind of girl that guys like

I know that

but the way he looks at me, and him, and him, too

ugh

maybe I’m crazy

but I think they do

and sometimes I think the one I like does, too

then I remember that’s crazy

he’s sooooo fine

maybe I’m just crazy

this is driving me crazy

this is unhealthy, I need to stop

how do I stop?

what do I do?

It's seeping through my bones like some kind of poison: Where brains meet the flesh, Morality dissolves — Obsession, now, the patron of the soul; My Bible in hand, yet a weight.

I know Styrofoam apples are perfect. I am not sweet, And I do not nourish. You are Autumn leaves, you Crumble beneath my winter boots.

Guilt cracks my clavicle, but I cannot refrain; I remember, you were soaked in pain, Rained on like plastic trees.

They said God, Won't you save her? I said Pastor, I'm too far, And the lightning came to tell me Of my sins:

Rejection of my nature, And destruction of my vessel; Cold unrepentance, for faith that I'm better; Creation to escape my skepticism.

Hurt people hurt others — Am I hurt enough To justify it? The answer is No In any circumstance.

The answer is, I am wicked. The answer is, I'm lost — And you know how I hate to feel foolish.

I know Styrofoam apples are perfect. I am not good, But I must flourish. You were Autumn leaves; it's Snowing now. And if I don't run, I'll die.

I am broken ribs and Shredded polystyrene.

My Bible in hand, yet a weight.

What if he does drugs that end up ruining his life? What if he never finds himself a husband Or a loving wife? What if he is timid and never follows His wildest dreams? What if he’s successful But he’s horrid and he’s mean? What if he decides That he can only lie? That no one will love him Or they only say goodbye? What if he regrets All of his biggest choices? Or he completes his aspirations But never fully rejoices? What if he lives ungrateful For the life that he creates? Or fights and throws his fists up And only blames the Fates?

I cannot bear to think Of all the hardships he’ll endure. The ups and downs The highs and lows Leaves me quite unsure.

And pardon my Dr. Seuss style rhymes But as his only mother I worry about him all the time.

I don’t know what to do I worry about what to do Then I worry about how I worry about what to do But then worry more About what to do And about how I worry about what to do

It won’t go. The thought of you— It won’t leave. My pattering heart— It won’t stop. My quickened breath— It won’t slow. Your sticking word— It won’t blur. The false hope— It stabs like Death.

You embrace me tightly

Eyes shut in the morning

Moving to feel with your iris set

On the inside of your eyelids

Draped in my touch

The gentle, fleeting, lovesong sunset

Do you feel the same feeling?

Is that look on your face

A smile at my soul

Or my flesh

When you reach out after feeling

The warmth of light, of life

Love?

Do you reach for me?

Is that what you see

When your eyes are closed?

To be held by you when I’m invisible

Do you see my soul?

Do you feel it?

Just know I am smiling.

If you haven’t

Known

Already.

It’s a funny feeling, when you realize you’ve forgotten somebody you once loved.

On the other hand, it’s a bit easier to describe the feeling of being the forgotten one: painful.

It was a dreary Monday when it occurred to me that you might have forgotten who I am, who I was.

When I thought my heart couldn’t break any more, it did. Once I found out it was partially true.

I remembered even the smallest of moments we’d shared, and you probably didn’t remember my face.

I know I can make you remember me, but what could I possibly do?

What must one do to find a ‘likeable’ personality? A life inside themselves? How can one revive a dull, bland corpse?

What remains is the question, simple on the surface, but dreadfully complex once you dive deeper: How?