She
refuses
To reside
Inside
anyone’s
Solace
Especially
her own
She’s a
rare rose
With
the thorns
Still attached
She walks
a fine line
Somewhere
Along the line
Between pain
And fine wine
She always
found the time
And
Courage
To shine

i’m beginning to hate myself again
all my work has been for naught
i still feel the same nausea when i look in the mirror
i still feel the same disgust when i eat
i still feel the urge to rip my skin off
has anything changed?
i remember what it feels like to be happy
but i was filled with anxiety for so long
i think it’s become my natural state

i don’t want to give up
but it’s so hard...
my skin is burning and
every step is like walking through fire
but i promised myself i wouldn’t give up
i won’t give in
i left the part of me that gives up behind
so
even as i crack
even as i burn
even as i hurt
i do not stop
i do not give up