everything i'm scared of in the dark, stacking pillows and holding them like a body
everything that is so normal and everyone that has it worse
(cosy lighting i slam both my hands on the wooden table and lean in manic 'i've never felt anything like this before in my life' g looks at me over her glasses)
my head picks up on the smallest,
4 lines from bad songs and books i read in school cycle around as though i'm supposed to take something from them
2. my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin this fearful date with this night's revels and expire the term of a despisèd life closed in my breast by some vile forfeit of untimely death
Work for days on feeling normal, and it unravels at the most inconvenient times - sitting on a bike at the gym on a Sunday morning reading Twilight (I'm sad!! Leave me alone) and Outside by Catfish and the Bottlemen comes on the stereo - I can't get away, I can't get my headphones on fast enough,
I'm in the car by myself to the country with this song and my voice and the sun and my heart bursting, things are perfect, I feel beautiful, I feel alive
and as though I've been slapped across the face angry tears land on the page in front of me, and I'm exhausted, trying to ride through a pool of molasses to tire everything in me that makes it so hard to sleep at night.
we let them knock like crazy 'cause i'd not seen her in months
Never in my life have I not been able to eat because of how I was feeling - until now!!! There was a time when I would pray for that; watch my friends ignore their meals when going through hard times and I would be so jealous of them, because all I ever usually want to do is eat when I'm going through it myself. I used to leave food on my plate on purpose when I was upset because that was the 'normal' thing to do - hoping someone would notice I wasn't eating it and be impressed, like I was impressed. And now here I am, weak and depressed, lifeless, nauseous - manic with anxiety and adrenaline that keeps me going + awake through the night, but running on nothing. I can't believe this is a life I would have happily chosen only a couple of years ago.
i used to carry you through town, you used to smother me in lippy
(for the first time in my entire life, i think i understand what it means to be truly loved by a friend)
love moves and works underneath the surface, feeding from the ground up - friendships are supposed to be easy, and mine mostly are 1. i crumple in a booth in brunswick and arms are there to catch me, hold me 2. i crumple on a couch in north fitzroy and fingers tread lightly on my shoulder call to see how i'm going
you have no idea how that feels, medium
my true friends protect me from things i didn't need to know about
and when i know, i'm so grateful they stood over me 10 ft tall and infallible
body origami in the corner swirl the ice round with the straw
like a medium, G calls when i need her, i talk through nights spent hunched over letters like hamilton looking up and realising i've vomited another song, another feeling, another realisation patiently kindly my friends wait for me to ask for their help, they talk amongst themselves, word spreads without me telling throw all my medicine out, close the drawer on everyone who loved me at least once, lock us up in my room, write it out, hide, awake all night
"all the moments i play in the dark"
playing as i peek out, a zombie, ghoulish hands flick through perfect fabric in the rags i've been wearing for three days without showering lift my shirt in the mirror, see my ribs for the first time in a year, woozy addiction a funny memory drag myself to a treadmill, everyone can tell, angry ruby skin around my eyes screaming
