are you fine?
yes of course, don't worry
my fridge is stocked
thats a good thing right?
unless its the same food
for a week, un touched in the slightest
you wont eat
"are you anorexic, my friend?"
"yes" the words flow into me like a million blades in my blood
but i smile and say, i'll help you
you start to eat
your getting better
my best friend is getting better
my friend..."your fat"
i remember saying that to you
all those years ago
i started this
i hear the sound of gagging filling the halls
i run to you there
besides the toilet
face expressionless, eyes cold
how could you?
you lie down, and i remember that its my fault
this is all my fault , right?
yes
i'm sorry
pretty late isn't it?
what do you mean?
i'm already dead
and with that theres a pounding in your head
there tears in your eyes
and you realize
this is all a lie
when i thought you were getting better, it was a way to cope with the fact that you had died
i lied-
to myself
to you
guilt, turns a person mad and forces them into the truth
even if they cant mange to swallow it
part of my new poetry line "guilt" post this everywhere you can on the internet , to help this problem!
*these are all realistic fiction which means there not real, but have real pressing issues