My body is sick, it wants my mind to be okay. It nasueates me, every god awful feeling makes me want to throw up. To purge until I am empty, until I can feel every crevice within me spasming from the absense of these feelings.


Sometimes I feel them
The blades I got rid of
I feel them eating their way through my flesh
I smell the iron dripping down my thighs, on my finger tips
And it breaks me
And for a second I forget about you, because you’re no longer my biggest heartbreak
And I sob, because tools that promised they’d never leave
Have been taken from me