The Calendar Hung Itself

I am skin, I am skin, I am growing skin, if only I could exist as nothing but skin. I am bones, I am bones, only the bones have lost their home. I'm under what I really am. I'm under all of this. I used to play with paper dolls. I would cut them out, stand them up, and they fit into all of their clothes. If only I could cut myself out, make myself up, make myself something more (less) than what I am now. I'm trying, I'm fighting, I'm living this mess. Everyday, there's no difference. I'm only victim to my own mistakes. I never knew this could be a consequence. I'm hitting myself in the face, clawing the excess away. It's almost like it's not right to be OK. Ugh, it'd be so much easier to get rid of it all, but I'm trying to prove that I'm bigger than this.. and the meaning has turned into a literal thing. I'm bigger than this, than that, than the past, but I'd rather just disappear, turn around and not be here. I'm standing in the middle of my nightmares. I'm standing in the middle of everything that I hate.

I really do have dreams about numbers, girls saying numbers over and over. And I feel shame, such shame. Because my numbers get bigger and bigger. I used to be so much better, but now I'm just the sympathy case. This is all that I was good at. 116 was in my dreams on Saturday. A face I know and want to love telling me what perfection was, and I could never measure up to her 116 perfection, her 116 happiness. And then I have the dreams about cakes, beautiful, beautiful wedding cakes. And I'm never the bride. I just devour the cakes. I eat every last bite and then I feel even more shame. It's a complete loss of control, and my stomach is full, and I can't throw up, no I can't throw up because I'm better than that now and I'm hardly better because half of bulimia is binging and I did, and.. then I wake up.. and I used to wake up to hipbones, but now I wake up to filled spaced and heaviness. Ugh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I feel like I have to apologize to the whole world for my failures. Because even though nothing has anything to do with any of that, I'm always doing something wrong. I'm dating boys and hanging out with others and talking to others and I never know what I want. I want peace, but I want attention. And I'm getting attention, and I'm loving these people, every single one of these people, I give a little part of myself. I am selfish and selfless all at once. Ugh, my weekend. Friday: For some reason when I think of this one person, I think of Luke Skywalker. And I think the ocean. And the moon. And I always see one face and it tells me a million things that it doesn't mean to tell me. And then later that day.. I don't know what I associate with this person. He makes me think of another person that I used to associate with Logan (Wolverine) from X-Men and I was crazy about this person and sometimes I am crazy about this person. He makes me laugh, and he's leaving for a long time, so there's no pressure anywhere but there's so much pressure because I'm me and I make things into what they're not. And Saturday: work, work, death, death, and then I met him. And I was more myself than I've been in a long time. I had long conversations, I thought about things, I took the time to think about questions and ideas and it was so comfortable. And there were trust tests and he tried to figure me out. It's too bad that I'll never trust anyone. I almost trusted him, but he broke that bridge so terribly and recklessly. And it's sad. I hardly even know what I'm talking about. But I want to trust someone.. someday. And I want them to trust me. Because I am a loyal person. No matter what anyone says, I am a loyal person. And this whole blog has been about nothing. And oh well. I want to give myself to something greater than this. I want to give myself away completely.


Well the clock's heart it hangs inside its open chest with hands
stretched towards the calendar hanging itself
but I will not weep for those dying days.
For all the ones who've left there's a few that stayed.
And they found me here and pulled me from the grass where I was laid.