Naked

If you saw my body

You would want to close your eyes

Or at least have myself cover

The scarred wrists and thighs

You would try to ignore it

But you wont be able to

Because who wants to look at this

Cut up flesh

Sliced skin

Some still healing

But some fresh

Some are scarred

But still deep

But those ones will always be there

The others wont, hopefully

Taylor

Opening up : as someone with self-harm scars I cant even look at my body at times, so the thought of someone seeing them again, scares me. But whoops i guess, im using it as a reason to try to stop, which has kinda worked but not completely…. but yeah slowly but surely

Eating

Why have I still not eaten breakfast at a time where some people would be having lunch?

Why do I eat all day when Im stressed or away?

Why do I love eating but also love hunger?

Taylor

Bonfire recipe (full version)

I tried to put all the pieces together

But they didn’t quite fit

Tried using duct tape and glue

Kept hammering nails into it

But all it did was damage the wood

Over and over again

And… I wish I could say they gave me the wrong tools

Or they gave me the wrong set and pieces

But somehow I just feel like it’s my fault

I’m just not the carpenter I thought I could be

So I’m sitting here in the rubble of disappointment

And wondering why I was never good enough to build it

And there is no more space for nails and bolts

And I have run out of duct tape

And I’ve got no more money or strength to go out and buy more

So I’m sitting here…

Burning thoughts in the flames

And pretending that I was constructing a bonfire all along

Because I was

Taylor

Home

I cant move out, it was a trap all along

Once you call it your home you never want to leave

You don’t want to pack up all your baggage

You won’t let yourself repaint all the walls

Trying to cover where you’ve picked and scratched it all off

I don’t want to leave this house because the windows keep me safe

They block out all the sunlight so I have the right lighting to write

The block out all the voices and the headaches

But they block them from the outside

Which is just what I need

And what I want

And what I’m used to now

So I wouldn’t have it any other way

I mean I can’t

But if i could I’d probably choose to keep it the same

Because you never want to move out of your home

I would never choose to be sane

Taylor

Fear

I fear… the inevitable

The ups the downs the all arounds

I fear what will happen next

I fear the rope that ties itself

Tightly ’round my neck

But this is not inevitable

This will not happen

I have changed

I am changing with each day

And I no longer see death as an exit

I no longer see my life as a play

That I can just quit

I am scared of being better

But that’s why I am scared, today

Taylor

First part is a little extract from a poem I wrote, and second part is how that no longer is me, I no longer believe that I will be in pain forever, I no longer see life as a burden, or myself as a burden. But being better is scary, its scary to think that one day everything you’ve worked for could all fade away.

Rabbit-hole

I’m falling down the rabbit-hole

with no clue of what I’ll find.

See magic has its different ways,

and who knows which is mine?

It could be dark and full of terror,

howling all through the night.

Or it could be lovely, nice and sweet,

where everything is bright…

But then again, it could be both,

with no certainty at all.

Or it could just be emptiness,

where all I do is fall.

Taylor

The rabbit-hole is an idea I find in a lot of my poetry, its a metaphor for mental-health, depression, loosing yourself. In this poem, its a question about where my journey is going, will it be like my nightmares, or my wishes… or will it always go up and down, good and bad…. or will it never go anywhere, will I be in this constant feeling of trying to find myself.