I have been flipping through some old journals lately. I came across some books of old poetry. Some are incredibly embarrassing. Haha, the things we get emotional about as teenage girls!

I thought about posting some on here, but wasn’t too sure. A friend told me, “You blog about everything else, so why not?”

Yeah…so why not!
written April 15, 1997. I was 17.

Once upon a time there was a little girl
Who believed that she could conquer the word.
All the bad things came to exist in her life
And they told her she couldn’t triumph over her strife.

They told her she wasn’t smart enough to succeed.
They told her she wasn’t good enough to believe.
They told her she was ugly. They told her she was fat.
She couldn’t be a supermodel of famous…

And that was that.

Although these things they said will always be lies
She began to believe them and parade their disguise
And suddenly, all the dreams that most little girls dream
Disappeared into the air, just like steam

So, she began to live her life, just as they said
Until they were always there inside of her head
And, when they would began to fight every night,
She would hopelessly submit, under their might.

They had no compassion, nor did they care.
For, even a little girl’s tears could not penetrate their lair.
She will live her life in fear- she will live her life in pain.
For, no one can rescue her, unless they are truly brave.

But sadly and steadily, she reaches the end.
Desperately wanting her life to amend.
But her poor little heart can no longer beat,
And her shattered soul isn’t even strong enough to weep.
Her tiny body is wrecked with pain,
Utterly in despair, she even stopped praying.

And as the end is near, she finally admits,
Her suffering will soon be gone,
Peace and darkness amiss.

This poem is obviously about my older sister and her struggle with anorexia. Please don’t misunderstand, I was not writing this to predict her death, not even close!!!

First of all, poetry/music was my outlet. I had been an observer of her eating disorder since I was about 12. And…I never had anyone to talk to about the emotional trauma that I suffered, watching my sister play with her own life.

I think, around this time, my sister was very close to death. She would tell me, ” Alicia, I think I’m going to die tonight,” when things would get really bad. At 17, I remember that Angela was doing horribly, and I was relieved to be leaving for the military so I could get away from all the worry. And when I wrote this, I remember being petrified that she really would die. That I would leave, and never see her again. I think I really believed that and wrote this as a way of coping with that pain.

As I was typing this, I thought…wow. 13 years later…and I still have the same emotions/fears/feelings about Angela’s situation….