Eat

Sometimes, I laugh so hard my stomach aches. I bend over, doubled up on the ground, wheezing. Laughing. Happy. My stomach starts hurting so bad I end up struggling to breathe, which almost always makes me laugh harder. It's like a vicious cycle. Kind of like how life is. You're born. You go through the actions of life without actually knowing what it means, what happens, what actually is. Meet a mate. Mate. Reproduce. Die. Then your offspring goes on to repeat that cycle. We don't actually die, you know. We never lived.

But anyway.

That's the good kind of hurting stomach.
There's a bad kind too. Well duh, there's a bad kind. There has to be if there's a good kind. The bad kind involves sharp pangs of hunger that strikes up and tells your insides to bleed. Sometimes, I skip meals and go days on tic tacs and gum and bananas. They say if you eat bananas in the morning you'll lose weight. That, and it helps the stomach rumbling. Have you ever been in a quiet classroom and suddenly your stomach goes Garr groo gruu and everyone looks at you? Probably not.

I'm kind of a screwed person, aren't I?

Is this considered self- destructive? Am I ruining myself?
If this is so bad, how come those pretty girls get to grace the front pages of magazines with their stick thin bodies? It's like I'm going to grow anymore. Horizontally maybe, if I don't keep this up.

I like it when it hurts so much I have to bite my lips and hold my breath to alleviate the pain. That sounds kind of twisted, huh. I'm a twisted person I guess. A twisted mangled mess of weeds you just want to rip out, roots and all, of the pretty picturesque garden. The sea of soft emerald hair.
That's what I am. Not a cliche hot, fudge sundae in a hot desert. Not peanut butter sandwiches when you're starving, whatever the hell that means.
No, I'm a wildflower in some tard's backyard, not even worth to be out front.

No one cares, because they don't know. I don't want them to know. I don't want them to care. I don't want them to worry.
What has happened to me? What is happening to me? What the hell am I doing? To myself, to my life?

Seems like all that's worth living for these days is love and green apples.

Paradise

Flowers, flowers, flowers

Cumulus clouds and cool rain showers

Flittering here and fluttering there

Azure butterflies everywhere

Soft whispers and big, beaming smiles

No more tears or reluctant goodbyes

Flowing skirts and silk ribbons on Cinderella dresses

A head of perfectly coiffed charcoal tresses

In this land of green grass,

Where everything starts as a spark

There’s no bottled fury

Or a fear of the dark

There are loved ones that don’t ever leave

And I’ll never, ever be bereaved

There are no jerks or stabs in the back

No slow internet or unappetizing food

There are cooked lobsters and creamy soups

Clear broths that taste oh-so-good

In this land I’m loved and liked

Unknown but not disliked

In this land there’s a boy who smiles at the thought of me

And slugs leave my veggies be

In this land,

I’ll say sorry

My parents will never worry

And I’ll be happy

Forever, happy.