Beauty?

I waited for you today, but you didn't show. I needed you today, so where did you go? You told me to call; you said you'd be there. And though I haven't seen you, are you still there? I cried out with no reply and I can't feel you by my side, so I'll hold tight to what I know. You're here and I'm never alone. And though I can not see you, and I can't explain why; such a deep, deep reassurance you've placed in my life. We cannot separate because you're part of me, and though you're invisible, I'll trust the unseen.

I miss feeling loved by something higher. I miss the feeling of peace that I had when I was younger, when I was able to put faith in something wholeheartedly, to never doubt myself, or my god. To be able to sing out, to cry to someone higher, and know that that calm would soon rush over me, would take care of me when even the people I loved most weren't quite able to do so. I know it's terrible that I've turned my back on faith, on religion, but for some reason, there's nothing that motivates me to go back. The way I see it, if there was a god, he wouldn't put me through all this. He wouldn't make me suffer. Wouldn't let me suffer. But then again, I must be here for a reason, I have to be. Because why else would I have such a constant longing to help people? To want to be that shoulder to cry on, even when it's denied, even when it's pushed away and turned against. And I know that even if that happens, I still have that burning in my heart to never give up. To never turn my back on those people that I love. Maybe that's what whoever this ..being is, that everyone calls god, maybe that's what he does. Maybe I'm taking on the qualities of that god. For as long as I can remember, I've been involved in a familiar church, with people I grew up with, or a new church when I moved, or just church activities that I've always been involved in. I used to be so into it, pouring myself into it, and enjoying it. But now, I still go to church every Sunday, but it's just like a ritual. It's just going through the motions, and even if I sit and listen intently, I take nothing from it. Does that make me a terrible person? Will I go to 'hell' if there is such a place? I don't want that, there is no way I want that. But even still, that risk doesn't push me enough to want to put faith in anything enough to actually fully do it. Ugh.

And for fuck's sake, I need something to believe in now more than ever. When I feel like my life is falling apart, when I hate everything about myself, when I can't hardly look at myself without wanting to step on a scale to see how much weight I've gained and hate myself more. It's like I crave more self-loathing, like I thrive on it. Because it's something to work towards, no matter how much it harms my body. It's that urge to starve for just one more day, the urge to lose just a few more pounds, always wanting to lose just two more pounds, just three more, just five more, just ten more. I want my body to waste away, I want things to shut down so that my body deteriorates, eats itself away to be skinnier, tinier. Everyone tells me I'm tiny all the time, that I don't need to lose any weight, that my body is perfect. Maybe it is. Maybe it DOES look good. But it's not good enough for ME. It will never be good enough for me, in my eyes. I want to be model thin, back in the day when it was considered beautiful for every bone to stick out, for limbs to look stick thin, breakable at any moment. It's just beautiful, to me. It's perfection in my eyes. And something that I will always strive for. I love when people tell me I'm thin, it makes me feel pretty. Don't get me wrong, I like it. And it does help. It makes me feel as though something I'm doing is working. But at the same time, it pushes me to want to become MORE perfect, more pretty. Oh well, I suppose I'll have to keep trying.

To my sister;;

i hope you know how bitter your name is, and that that it's always on the tip of my tongue. you're a bad breakup, you're my favorite song on a scratched up record. the most beautiful girl, looking down into a shattered mirror, all i can see of myself are scattered pieces. i wouldn't recognize this girl as myself, on a second glance. and like a mirror, the pieces never quite fit back together right. you're my childhood lullaby, sung just out of key. just enough to ruin something perfect, something soothing, something that calms me out of my tears. we do it so we can feel, so we can take control. your drug of choice is the taste of your insides, mine is the pictures i draw on my own, personal canvas. something that will last, they're marks of ourselves. we know it's killing us, but it's so beautiful. you do know you're dying, don't you?

we layed there, and the rain was spitting itself out at my window, two different views. it calmed you down, soothed you to sleep, it kept me up, made me cry. but i watched you lie still, slid my hand into yours, and counted your breaths. i watched your body shiver, and twitch, in your sleep, watched words form on your lips as you murmured in your sleep that you loved me too. somewhere in the back of your dead asleep mind, you heard me say it. you just wanted to let me know you weren't ignoring it, even subconsciously.

we walked around town like we owned the place, walked the halls of the old school, didn't take anything from anyone. we talked back to those of authority, didn't care what people thought as we walked around like we were lovers. because somewhere, in some strange way, we were. we held each other in bed, kept each other warm, whispered in each others ears "i love you'' and that all would be okay. we were lovers. no, we weren't in love. we weren't lovers. we were best friends. we were sisters. we were inseparable.

or, at least, i thought so?

now your name carves holes into my flesh, writes words onto my skin. it prevents food from entering my lips, pulls hair from my head, bites every nail down to it's bleeding point. it pinches, and punches bruises onto my legs. it's killing me, it's tearing me apart. it's making me someone i never wanted to be again. does it hurt you to know that you've betrayed me? just like so many before you, you've taken words i've entrusted in you, and thrown them aside like they were crumpled up letters. like they were letters i wrote you, that needed to be tossed out, because they reminded you too much of yourself. i scared you away. and now i can only hope you'll heal in time, without me holding your hand, i hope you'll be able to cross the street by yourself, and make it to the other side alive.

just know, i loved you then, and i love you now.