I say I'm clean
But my cracked, bleeding lips tell a different story.
My peeled bleeding fingers hide under oversized hoodies.
Spelling out a different tale.
My hair falls out in the shower
In clumps
From eating once a day.
But I'm clean right?
Because I'm not dragging a blade across my skin.
I'm clean.
But I'm not clean.
I've just stopped hurting myself with objects.
I've just stopped caring about my health.
But I'm clean.
Because it's not a blade.
Because it's just me.
YOU ARE READING
Poems by me
PoetrySo I'm not the best at writing. And I don't write often. This is also my first "story". This is going to be a book of poems I write. It won't be updated often. And I'm kind of scared to even upload any. But I'm going to do it anyways. Even if I get...
