i am paralyzed

I was there

in the middle of it all;

the ashes beneath the fire.

I was the kindling

but not the beautiful flame

so no one noticed me

or acknowledged the life that I created.

you

supported by me

or more like

supported by my crooked and dry wooden frame

that provide an alter beneath you

or maybe like

supported by my spine

composed of so many fragile aching bones

that are already broken-

you use them as your pedestal.

you've broke me

you've broke the one thing that held me together

so teach me how this once fluid and nostalgic,

yet now tragically incapacitated

body,

should function,

in the way that it should

in the way that its supposed to?

hurry

take the rest

take what you need

take all of me

the last of me

because i am too broken to stay here

to create another mountain beneath you.

but was i ever supposed to?

i do not know.

ilc

- body, forgive me

look at me

look at me

I know that you’re not okay

I know that you are wilting away

so let me in

let me see

all the things you’ve never told me

so that I can help bring you back

from the part of you

that is under attack

watch my eyes

and watch my feet

together now-

you will relearn how to eat

all the food

that you turned away

and all the meals you refused to let stay

I can help you

we can leave

but together now

you have to concede.

body,

please,

forgive me.

ilc

- you bring this world to its knees

graftted by solace

-----------------------,

4

4.5

4.54

4.54 billion

4.54 billion years

for 4.54 billion years this world has existed and has exhausted itself while begging for your arrival.

on the day that you were born,

the earth shuttered

its oceans roared

and its mountains crumbled.

however

this was not a tragedy

it was the earth expressing its fear to have you in its arms.

one person

one human being

a prodigy

a fragile heart

beating beneath fragile bones.

a complex being that will walk through the grasses of the earth

a being that will climb the curves within its trees

a heart that will have grace greater than its flowers

bones that will carry themselves through its winds

lips that will bend and undulate upon the sight of the intricate details it beholds

skin that will feel the rain

eyes that will tear upon the beauty of your upbringing

a mind that will wither within the things you possess.

the earth waited for you to fall into its arms so that it could tell the jealous planets of millions of miles away

that you have walked upon its ground and held its waters with your hands

it will tell the planets that they will forever be missing the greatest part of existence

because unlike the others

the earth held you

you

you

you

the most precious life to reside inside all universes

the most calming voice to speak into a storm

the most gentle hands to touch creations

of 4.54 billion years.

when you arrive

the earth will call upon the universe to tell it that it has seen beauty in the purest form

and with your touch it is ready to burn away after 4.54 billion years of waiting

for you

you

you

you

because it has watched true love live through the most complex and perfect form of life;

you.

you are the greatest force keeping countless lives from slipping away.

the world has been waiting for you

and it has never seen anything important enough to live for but you

so know that you have changed the world

simply by being alive

you have brought the beauty of 4.54 billion years to its knees for an eternity

it knew that it couldn’t die without first holding you

so for 4.54 billion years it screamed in pain trying to form a place worthy enough to be stepped upon and loved by you

you were the beginning of life within the earth

and you are the end of time.

so know that when you look into the night sky

through the stars and universes and past the planets

the earth is looking upon it too

telling them that it has seen everything anything could ever fathom

after watching you live.

when you leave this earth

it will collapse into a black hole of depression

hoping that it will see you again somewhere inside of the cosmos.

and with this

know that you brought this world to its knees and you were the supplier of all life

yes, you

you

you

you

are that being.

ilc

- the architectural beauty of girls

she looks down

falls to her bedroom floor

grips her thighs with her fingernails

looks into her mirror another time

wondering why

why

why

is there purple worms on my skin

when did these cross my path

when did these receive consent to make home on the insides of my legs

she calls for her mom

asking her why her legs have grown into something

she would rather hide beneath a newfound hate

and her mother tells her

“all the pretty girls have them

they are the symbol of your life

twelve years of crawling

walking

running

and growing

growing and becoming

do not look at them and fear

do not look at them at let yourself believe that they are ugly

do not stop looking at them

because those are the beautiful roots of twelve years

twelve years of a life that is changing the whole world

let them be

because nothing is more beautiful

nothing is more moving

nothing is more powerful

than a girl loving herself

and all that she has become.

those scars are the roots growing on the sides of a building

hugging the pillars and walls that stand monumental

taking on the definition of the strength that only the most beautiful souls can speak

growing onto something that wants to be looked at.

the beauty of the complex lines on your legs

is the same beauty as those roots;

pulchritude

because they didn’t know that they weren’t supposed to grow there

but they did

because they saw something more beautiful than anything else

and they ached to be as beautiful as the building

as your body

and so they grew there

not knowing that they were ugly

but hoping that if they grew onto something beautiful

they would become beautiful too.”

ilc

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- a memior, 9.27.17

My mom looked at me and asked if I would be okay at home alone. I said “Yes, I will,” without considering the fear that I could feel already running through my veins. I told her “yes” because I thought that if I told myself a certain amount of deadly times, my brain would believe that I was actually okay, despite the impending fear that was constantly imprisoned inside of me as if my mouth was one-way barbed wire, and my body was a prison cell for a monster. My mom took my answer as a certainty, and she left with the rest of my family to a wedding reception an hour away from our house. I sat on the couch with my favorite show on, and some paper to draw. I started to draw and the lines weren’t straight, my hands were shaking, and the ink was bleeding down the page as my tears created a river over my work. The fear imprisoned inside of me took me in as its hostage, and I lost control. I felt hands gripping my neck, and breathing became a ransom my body could not pay for. I began to scream in hopes that someone would hear, and rid me of what was going on inside. I fell from the couch and I crawled up the stairs so I could lay in my parent’s bed as the fear consumed me completely. I made it half way up the stairs and I was hit with another attack that felt like war over my body. I screamed and I begged God to take away the anxiety. I begged for Him to pull me up from beneath the waters I was drowning in, but no relief came. As my lungs filled, along with my mom’s text message inbox, she sent one of our really good family friends straight to my house. I can imagine that if she hadn’t done this, tragedy would have fulfilled my place in my family. This woman was someone who my brain found safety in, and she was able to calm the uproar of fear that was settling beneath my fragile bones. I still shook, cried, and worried relentlessly until my mom was finally home. When my mom arrived home she ran inside in tears and cradled my trembling body. In her arm’s I felt a defense line start to build up against the monster that was haunting my life. She calmed my tense muscles and slowed my nerves. In her I found peace that I was not able to lend myself because of the tragic outbreak of anxiety that was eating me alive, slowly. I often told myself that I would never know the sensation of a normal heartbeat again, and that this was the perpetual reality that I was forced to try and survive in. I told myself daily that surviving is not living, and it is much easier to want to die then to go on. Imagine trying to live when everything around you is seen as terrifying. Your skin, lungs, hands, food, medication, doctors, grass, walking, living…Everything. Imagine constantly thinking that these things were putting you in danger and that you had to find some way out of their reach, but you were their reach. It is terrifying. Catastrophically, all-consuming, and horrifying. Having a piece of paper put in front of your face and falling to the floor in horror because you are terrified, that is devastatingly crippling. Being clinically diagnosed with anxiety, pulled from school and the outside world, confined to your bed by your own brains demanding instruction, and having no control over what you felt is absolutely tragic. I have walked through hell, and I have suffered many things to see the light at the end of my trial, but it was hard work. Bone shattering, back breaking, bloody work. I am, undeniably, the walking definition of anxiety, even to this day. But at least I am beginning to learn how to swim and navigate my own terrifying waters. Thankfully, I have love and help as I try to find the girl who I used to know; me.

ilc

- an ode to sing my OCD to sleep

sometimes i dig my nails into my skin because i am trying to get it out. they told me not to listen to them anymore. they told me to try not to submit myself to their grueling rituals anymore- so in attempts to practice healing, i hold myself a hostage in my bed. i resist the arms i see that are constantly laid out in front of me, tattooed with promises and wishes that assure they will be granted; these arms feel safe. these arms feel like home. these arms feel like home and i am so scared and so homesick. so i submit myself to their warmth. i want to fall to my knees into them as my body cripples, though i know that i am not supposed to lay in the tattooed arms of this familiar skin. but it’s so hard not to when they are safe and they are warm and they are peaceful. they are gentle as they draw the toxic adrenaline out of my bloodstream that is constantly hurting me.
and these arms are everything i need but they leave me so alone, so quick, in order to play the great game of hide and seek, so that no one catches me falling for them; back into them...
when they arrive again, outstretched like the hands of a lifeguard pulling me back up from the somewhere i cannot escape, they try and make me do something mad again. the arms unfold and this time my body cripples but i cannot fall to my own desire, i cannot fall peacefully even though i long for them to take me away, i am instead caught glued in position because i have to get used to the feeling of the tattooed arms not being there, even though they told me they would never leave me- i mean, i thought that they did? i saw the tattoo so vivid written in black ink and cursive, it said that they will never leave me comfortless, but i went to the doctor and he told me that i have to wipe the arms clean with a damp towel to see that the tattoos are only temporary calligraphies... so the next mad thing they tell me to do, i carefully watch the arms unravel and they say SAFETY SAFETY SAFETY NO ONE WILL DIE YOU WILL BE HAPPY YOUR FAMILY IS SAFE YOU WILL BE LOVED YOU ARE LOVED BUT YOU HAVE TO COME HERE HERE HERE HERE SO THAT I CAN WISPER THESE PROMISES DOWN YOUR SPINE TO ELICIT UNSURE SHIVERS THROUGH YOU...AND YOU’LL FEEL SAFE BECAUSE YOU WILL BE HOME, REMEMBER? but this time i remember. i remember what my doctor told me. i turn my head but the arms reach nearer for me and they pierce my skin with nails as sharp as a blade, and they try to pull the urge out of my body so that i do not have to feel the torment that anxiety holds a hostage in me... i consult the arms and i scream and i say get it out get it out GET IT OUT but they bring no relief and they dig so deeply into my empty bones and my tired organs and they cannot find the discomfort that is haunting me, they are betraying me- so i remember again. i see the tattoos and i watch them shape and move and i grab my tear soaked shirt and i wipe them- i wipe them once and the promises start to disappear and i wipe again and again and again and soon everything is gone and there is nothing there and devastation falls over my body and i shake and i shake and i shake and i scream as my mother holds me- but you see, she isn’t the tattooed arms built by safety, so i do not feel safe. i can’t escape, and the irritation that is running through my veins and to my head then back through my thousands of veins stays and it stays and it preys. i try to rid myself of the pains but the aches come like itches and as one disappears, another one reappears, and i am exhausted from scratching this innocent body. and i know that i should not grab my skin like it is taffy that i can rip apart and consume- it is gentle and it is home- but something always says no no no no you’re not safe get it out get it out get it out and the urge doesn’t leave and it itches me mad and i stab and tear and pull and pinch to try and perform surgery on my body to find the ticking time bomb that is causing the discomfort- but i find nothing. and it itches me mad
mad
mad
mad
mad

ilc