Your pictures are still hung on every wall, I still see your cheerful smile every time I walk through our house, they're a little dusty, I promise you I'll clean them once I get back on my feet.
Your clothes are neatly folded and tucked in the closet just like you left them, your mug- the one with the broken handle, the one you always said you'd replace but never did- is still stained from your last coffee.
Our house faintly smells of cigarettes and your perfume, I know you like to open the windows every morning to freshen up the house but I can't bring myself to get out of bed. Your shopping list is on the fridge, I know you were planning to make a cake for your friend's birthday next week....always the giver, you.
My phone is buzzing, it must be work again, I don't want to go. I'm not prepared to see the world outside functioning normally when you're not in it.
I don't want to leave just to come back to an empty house and a cold bed.
But I know you wouldn't be proud of how I'm treating myself,
"It's not your body's fault, stop punishing it" you'd say, you'd make me food and force me to eat it because you know how I lose my appetite every time something bad happens. I softly smile at the memory of you comforting me after I lost my first job, how you didn't leave my side until I was okay again.
So for you, I'll try to get back up every time the world puts me down.
I know you'll be watching me, I want to make you proud.
I'll keep you in my heart. I miss you.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional Torture.
PoetryCollection of poems and pieces written about daily struggles and tackling big world problems from the eyes of a teenager. Warning: Some chapters might be triggering. Triggers include: Suicide Eating disorder Self harm
