Silly girl, playing games
You say
Anorexia's a scary word
Say it in
Hushed tones
As if whispers don't make it real
It's your fault you know
Blame it on their words all you want
It's your fault
Because you believed them
Still do
I laugh
As you say your lies
'I'm trying'
What a joke!
Maybe you were
But that was before
When you still had
Him
He helped you in ways no one else could
He loved you
And you loved him
His compliments
Meant more to you than anyone else's
Admit it!
He saved you, girlie
But not again
Ah, poor soul
You were so close, too
Almost recovered
So happy
So very goddam close
To eating regular
And then!
To have it all snatched away
Right before you reached the end
Of this twisted game of Snakes & Ladders
Down you went
Sliding back to the beginning
Start the game again
Stupid girl
You broken china doll
So close to being fixed
Before being suddenly smashed to pieces
More broken now than ever
Do I care?
Of course not!
Starve yourself, girl
Maybe at the end
You can finally find release
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryThis is the story of two entities. Her and I. One urging for pain, the other holding onto hope. These are her words. Her views. Her ideas. How much longer can I live with Her?
