letting go

is a knife in the lungs

punctured, i’m breathing out

the memories

of us

on our flight

back home,

a stranger in your seat

reminding me

that letting go

is a mercy on the lungs

sutured, i’m breathing out

the memories

of us

and breathing in

the memories

of me.

T’was on a braw, bricht, Moonlicht nicht,

Where there I met this lassie,

Such a bonnie wee lass I ne’er had seen,

With her twinkling eyes, so sassy!

The dew was on the heather,

The moon high over the glen,

I met her there, near Inverness,

But we’d never meet there again,

She kissed me once in the moonlicht,

It was there she stole my heart,

For she was a fairy princess,

Who knew, we soon would part,

Though it seemed a novel invention,

That I might propose to her,

I soon made clear my intention,

Whispered in a sweet demure,

But my bonnie wee fairy princess,

Who with my whole heart I desired,

Left me there in the dewy heather,

Lovelorn, heartbroken and tired,

Me wee tartan kilt I treasure,

A plate of piping haggis I adore,

But my bonnie wee fairy,

In the bricht, Moonlicht nicht,

Is lost to me, ...evermore.

(c) BAM

my words

won’t be pretty

tonight

because there

are times

when i think

i’m okay

and it’s these times

when the world

tugs at my chains,

it’s these times

when the stillness

claws at my brain,

it’s these times

when the pain

is my only vice

and all

i can do

is hurt.

Clear….BOOM

We’d play this game for hours

I’d press on my big brother’s chest

And he’d writhe with my baby fist electrocution

Shocked by my invisible medical tools

Brought back to life by my furious laughter

Hours, hours, hours

Because it made me laugh

Of all the hours in his life

How many did I steal for myself?

A five year old doesn't care

Clear…BOOM

Again and again and again

On the Flintstone's bed

That belonged to the twins

I, a doctor

A being with wizardous strength in my fat baby fists

Shocked his heart to life

More times than I can count

But when he was on the floor of his bathroom

Mouth full of vomit

Step son slapping, punching his face

When he was on the floor of his bathroom

Paramedics beating his chest

Clear…BOOMing his chest

His wife: I don’t know, I don’t know…

My mother, with the doctor by the shirt

Bring him back, bring him back, bring him back

And me, too late

With my powerful hands

Perhaps too late to shock him back to life

“I don’t want him to be alone”

And as I enter to stare at this body

This body that belonged to my brother

I feel his hands, but they are cold

So I search for warmth, and find his neck

I search for life, and listen to his chest

And knowing I won’t be alone for long

I clear BOOM

Clear BOOM

Clear fucking BOOM to bring him back

But magic only works for fat baby fists.

You'd find me in the bathroom floor.

The water would still be running

While you laugh outside the door,

not caring, because you never did -

And you'd probably make fun of me

Like you do when you think I'm not home

Awful words that make me want to cry,

But I think I got the last laugh.

You'd find me when the water runs

Through the cracks of my bedroom door

Realizing maybe something

Really was wrong, and you'd come in

To pink tinged blood

but the door wouldn't open at first

And for a moment you'd think all was fine

You'd see me then

Silent, still - so so still

Two slits of red, so easy to let go

Eyes staring at the white toned ceiling

Unblinking, finally unfeeling

And maybe you'd realize -

Maybe you'd finally realize...

You wouldn't really find me

Cus' I'd be long gone

Oh I'd love to be gone

And maybe you'd cry

but maybe you wouldn't

You never cared in life, after all

And maybe you'd understand

But then, you never saw

What you didn't want to see.

(Good Luck trying to unsee me).

Cracked windows and broken mirrors

     clinging to mangled strings of abuse

     caught in flesh prison of frayed bones

     unglued and ripped shreds at seams

Cracked windows and broken mirrors

     soul clutched and squeezed without consent

     stranded in desolate town in nowhere’s belly

     throats of water entrenched in dark clouds

Cracked windows and broken mirrors

     hungering to turn back and walk away

     to close my eyes tight and dance in dreams

     scrubbed clean of yesterday’s lacerations

     yearning to two step into new reality.

.Obsessive compulsive disorder (the real one)

.Untamed imagination 

.Ocean envy provoking love

.Messy soul

                                             KNOW MY MADNESS

                                  PROCEED WITH CAUTION                        

Glued warning on my back,

looked in my inner mirror.

Warning: My panties can catch

on fire at any moment!

Do you remember when you were four years old,

When you didn't care about how your body looked.

When you didn't know how it should look.

You didn't care about what you ate or what you weighed.

You didn't even know what perfection was.

You were just purely you.

Who even told you what flaws were?

Who told you what was beautiful,

And what was not?

Who had the audacity to ruin your perfect self image.

And start a world of impossible standards.

Who created the demon inside of you?

The demon that has now taken over your life.

The one that made you care more about the number on the scale,

Or the blemish on your face,

Then your self worth.

The demon screaming inside of you,

Hammering in the message that you will never be loved,

Not unless you meet an impossible list of "perfection".

A list filled with thigh gaps, tiny waists, big eyes and perfect skin.

A list that will tear you apart.

The demon hollows out your insides,

Taking away any joy you had left in your body,

Until there is nothing.

Creating an abyss that will never be filled.

It makes it so all you can think about is everything you are not.

You'd rather starve than eat.

You would rather cut your arms,

Than look at yourself in a mirror.

The demon will not stop until you hate yourself.

Until you loathe your very existence,

And cry yourself to sleep.

It will keep on growing and growing,

until you fade away to nothingness.

You have to take away its power.

Look away from that magazine,

And step away from that scale.

Stop thinking about what your not,

And embrace who you are.

Stop caring about a space between your thighs,

Or a timepiece like figure.

And start caring about you.

Your body is your only home.

Stop treating it like its broken,

Or messy.

Stop trying to clean and fix your already perfect house.

The only one who can kill the demon

Is you.

''You have to understand that you have to stay here, stop fighting it, Natasha.'' he whispers to me in a soothing yet stern voice. As if I have a choice.

''I gave up the fight a long time ago. I'm just waiting. One day, someday. I will get out.'' I reply with as much adamant as his tone had.

He looks at me with a smug grin on his face as he takes the injection from the tray next to him.

''This should help you.'' Mr. Smugface explains as he injects the drugs in me. I stare at him and all I want to do is grab that needle and slash that pathetic mockery off of his fucking face.

He turns and locks the door on his way out.

I look around this dull, cold room. The curtains look like someone has clawed them. The sheets send chill through my body. The walls cracked. I don't even know how I got here. I lay down, my eyelids too heavy to keep open. I close them and let the drugs consume me. 

I'm awoken by an itchy discomfort in my throat, I try to cough but I can't. I reach in my mouth and find a strand of hair. I pull it and chucks of hair begin coming out of my mouth.. What in gods name is happening to me. I'm screaming but no one is listening to me. Why is no one listening to me...? 

I can hear them behind the door, whispers echoing down the hall. I hear screams coming from the other rooms. I'm trembling, I feel it in my throat. More and more chunks of hair lace out of my mouth. My screams are getting louder and the whispers are still echoing. I slide to the floor and wrap my arms around me. 

''You can make this all go away, ya know?'' That familiar, sweet voice, so persuasive, so tempting. Low cackles linger in the back of my mind. ''You know you want to...''

She continues, persuading me. Like a moth to a flame I want to be sucked in. ''It's just like sleeping, only.. you never have to wake up, Natasha.'' Whispers continue to slither down my spine. 

''Sleep would be nice...'' I consider as my body trembles with delight of the thought.

Interrupting, I  hear the key turn and Mr. Smugface enters. 

''How are we doing here?'' that too mocking grin on his face again. If only I could wipe it off. We both know what happened the last time you tried that. Not a wise idea. I feel sick and my chest is tightening . The irritation is building up in my throat again. As if something is stuck. I pull it out and throw it on the floor, wet, black, long knotted strands of hair.  

'' This, this is how we are doing. What is happening to me? what is this? What is happening to me? please, just let me out!!!!!!!!!!'' My lip trembles as I scream at him, 

''Please....'' I plead.

He stares at me, for once, not that smug smile. His eyebrows are narrowed as he looks at the floor, '' I don't see anything. Natasha, what are you talking about? This is why you are here, we are trying to help you. If you just sat....''

I push his tight grip off me and fly through the door. Running for air as if my life depends on it. ''I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy.'' I tell myself as I run feeling stupid and confused. wrapping the gown around me as I run.

The corridor is dark, dull and damp. A girl  sits rocking in the corner with her arms wrapped around her legs. Mumbling words too quiet to understand or even hear. A slender boy Strolling down the corridor approaches me, he looks directly into my eyes and they're black. His eyes are black. Fear takes over my body and I'm suddenly running, searching for a window. The itch in my throat is back. 

I reach in my mouth and this time it's not easy to pull out. It's plastic. I start pulling it out  as it grazes my throat.  

I want to die, I can't breathe. I can hear her pretty little voice in my mind but I'm in too much of a panic to understand what she is saying. Not hard to guess. I can taste the blood in my mouth. I look up to see them, dressed in white, blood down their uniforms. Why aren't they helping me. Why is no one helping me??? The walls are closing in on me my vision blurring I can no longer run.

Prod! 

I turn to see his arms out ready to catch me as I fall to oblivion. More fucking drugs. My eyelids fall. My screams are only in my mind. No one can hear me but myself. 

The feeling in my throat is still there, I can feel it building up. Whatever it is, it's there. I can't open my eyes, I feel my body wet with sweat. I can hear the ticking of the clock, The whispers in the corridor. I break through the darkness and my eyes fly open. I gasp. Fingers down my throat. Blood is filling up in my mouth and I whine. Please god, make this stop.

''You know what you have to do!'' giggles flood my mind. 

''Shut up, shut up, go away. Leave me alone!!!!!!!!!!'' I slur my words as blood drips from my mouth. 

I fall to the floor from my bed, it's so dark the only slight light I see is creeping in from under the door. I crawl to it scream as loud as I can but the door is unlocked, it's never unlocked. Excitement is pulsing through my veins and I can't get up quick enough. I stand almost tripping up and make my way out to the corridor. 

Deserted. 

I try the handle of the door at the end of the corridor. It's open... I enter to find a familiar looking figure sitting on a chair, candle light flickering off her face. 

''Mother, is that you?'' I sound lifeless as I approach her, I set myself down by her feet embracing the warmth coming off her as I inhale that memorable sweet scent I know all too well. 

''It's about time you found me, darling.''

The beginning of a short story. I would love and appreciate opinions and criticism if needed. Thank you!