i am empty, except for the
butterflies that tickle my
stomach. forgot about food:
thinking of you and
everything i will say.

stay.

i choke on these words
that have fled from containment
i sob and i take
gulps of air like hydration

i starve to maintain
this excess of hate
that sits loud and patient
across my whole navel

i blame these sharp words
that sneak out through my teeth
they lash out at you
as you stare wide at me

my headlights alarming your doe eyes
(no malice apparent but it breeds behind light)
as i speak in these slices of sentencing spite
(then i silently lie and regret in the night)

thought i grew this act out,
but i caved it all in
let it push its way up
let it surface my skin
just to see myself lose
what i thought was a win

I want to die

Peacefully, on my own terms
Without pain or hurt

On my own
So that no one

Has to bear a loss
Though they wouldn’t be missing much


•••
Trigger warning ⚠️
(again, just in case)
•••


I often ponder
How I want to die

Do I jump off that balcony,
Or cross that street?
Do I use this knife,
Or just not eat

The growling of my stomach reminds me I'm alive.

Over and over relapse after relapse, when will my body finally collapse?

Not eating for days, is it from the depression or for the control?

The control that I cannot grasp so I try harder and harder
as my heart beat gets softer and softer.

Never will I be thin enough but I can sure try if I can't control my mind, why not the size of my thighs.

Summer twenty-eighteen, five days of no food, five days of stumbling upstairs and stumbling from the hall to my room.

Falling in the shower, black spots in my vision.

Fall of twenty-eighteen, trying to recover, but now I scream in the spring.

In my mind, I yell not to eat hoping to control the storm of insecurities in my head.