
EAT“EAT” is written on the board in capitals, and it’s been three months. Five skinny, nervous teenagers surround you and one plump psychologist lectures orchestrally. You’re not quite sure if this class is voluntary, but you aren’t brave enough to ask. You want to leave overwhelmingly, but you’re shy.EAT by ~EvangeleneClaire
A girl stands up. Her name is Mindy and she weighs 50kg. You think the word fatass uncontrollably. She was on a drip and a feeding tube for a week and shows us photos of when she was 37kgs, as though to justify herself. She claims to have recovered, and she looks at you with contempt. You have not recovered. Yo

LateThey dove into the waterLate by ~EvangeleneClaire
and felt they were heroes
too strong and bold to fail
Ready for the newspaper later
But,

Hold my handHold my hand. My thumb, my pinkie, my index, ring and middle fingers. My palm. My knuckles. The 29 major and minor bones, 29 major joints, 123 ligaments, 34 muscles, 48 nerves and 30 arteries.Hold my hand by ~EvangeleneClaire
Hold my hand,( because I'm not afraid). Because I'm brave enough for you. Because I'm ready to love you, to be loved by you. I'm so strange and fragile and blistered by myself, so weathered and disorganised and inert.
And you're such a fighter, you're so believable and real and solid, (you're a fact). You exist and it shocks me sometimes, it fixes me sometimes that you're possible. I was put together the wrong way but I don't feel tangled with you, I

Delicate“How was your day?” Mum asks. She gives you a smile when you look at her but she’s been crying a little bit. Her migraines have been bad again. She’s half of you; she has a flat, oval shaped face with a nose that angles up like it’s been sandpapered. She’s half of you but she doesn’t look a bit like you except on the inside.Delicate by ~EvangeleneClaire
The teachers’ hands were cool but sweaty, her arms were covered with short, erect hairs and you could tell she was a little bit Greek. She was too delicate with you; it gave you shivers and made your hair stand on end – At ease soldier. Today’s the day.
She intro

InertiaSometimes, I feel so very sorry forInertia by ~HoldTheNoise
the letters that I write.
Born onto a blank page and
trapped there all their lives.
No new sites to see, no unfamiliar faces to meet;
standing in a lonely row
just to express my thoughts as words,
and yet, completely unable to express their own.
They lie paralyzed in their birthplace
lacking the ability to grow and learn.
Immovable to change for the rest of their lives.
And sometimes, I wonder to myself,
why I choose to be the same.

MonologueSpinal fluid seems to be seeping between the cracksMonologue by ~grew-up-a-screw-up
Of the dark hardwood floors beneath me
As if all the cartilage from my being
Has been used to paste together an arthropod heart
I’ve white washed my pupils and folded them
Into hazy envelopes and sent them off to strangers