I cannot bear the hatred for my body
Is this this even a body?
I choke myself between the sheets but that won't help my flesh disappear
I drown in agony because I binged
There's pressure in my head
There's pressure in my tummy
Clutching my stomach to stop rumbling and my legs to stop tumbling and my heart to stop beating and my mouth to stop eating
Then it hits me
The thought hits me as my desk hits me when I stumble across the room
I reveal my shining sword to the darkness and with one last squeeze to my belly
I carve
I carve around my naval
I watch
I watch the red bead from my skin
A necklace stringing it's way across my abdomen
My unsteady hands smear and smudge the gore
It's almost like a work of art
My pressure is relieved only once the weapon got to slashing
So I will continue slashing
The suffering pleasures me
I don't know how and I don't know why
As long as my stomach sinks and my soul doesn't sink along with it I am satisfied
As long as my limbs shrink and my mind doesn't shrink along with it I am satisfied
I am satisfied until the dawn
And then I'm back to devastation and frustration
Trying to find my way back to satisfaction
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia
PoésieBehind every poem is a story too afraid to be told bluntly. . . . I intend to write to make you feel.
