I identify closely with a sinking ship,
Gutted from the inside out.
You see healthy,
I see an hourly bathroom exchange.
Eyes, lips. face.
Picked apart for scraps.
My disaster and demons,
glamorized into a success story.
Everyone sees key words, like bravery, self control, work.
They do not see the sunken eyes, the bruised spine.
They do not see hungry in bold red on the title page.
I am a sinking ship, sinking farther and farther.
To everyone else, I am scrap parts for a new one.
YOU ARE READING
Whispered Thoughts and Screaming Lines
PoésieMy attempts at poetry Trigger warning for every poem Mentions of: suicide, self harm, eating disorders, dysphoria, etc. Most poems are written as spoken word so if they sound weird when you read them that's why
