The space between my fingers and my lips
Seems so short when you look at my bitten down fingertips.
Skin that has been peeled back,
Exposing later of nail upon nail upon regret upon nail.
So why does the space between my hand and teeth lengthen when I have food clasped between my fingertips like the life it is.
Like my body longs to feel itself rot away
Despite my best efforts.
Staring at food, wishing I could absorb it through my eyes
And consume it.
Only feeling beautiful when I'm hungry
Makes me feel so ugly.
As though I am a child and need someone to watch me eat
Because I don't want to.
Like a toddler throwing a fit,
I just want to ball up
My
Fists
And
Scream.
As though that will make me eat.
I'll probably try and find out how many calories it burns.
Food.
Precious food.
How I want to destroy you.
YOU ARE READING
Raw Emotions
PoetryContradictions are my addiction, Let me carve into your ribs the words that my lips fail to form, I refuse to be anything but greyscale, scrubbing the colour from my skin to feel a sense of belonging within this vibrant world. Too much, Not enoug...
