i never stopped that thing -
that thing you told me to never do.
i never stopped going to the lake,
the beautiful red lake that ripples
when rain droplets fall.
i never stopped listening to the
sound of ripping fabric. it reminds me
of me.
i never stopped running home,
my home in-between ***** sheets
and dull blades.

and i don't want to see you,
because you'll tell me to stop.
you'll threaten to leave,
and i won't stop you.
because i'll never stop that thing -
that thing you told me to stop.

a prescription for Ambien next to the pile of bills on the night stand
a cold glass of water, now ice, in the unheated room - a constant reminder of loss. mascara smudged eyes, an arm hanging off the bed, blood seeping through bed sheets --
passed out again last night --
the morning sunlight streaks in through the dusty window,
eyes slowly blink open, a sudden **** to grab the metal trash bin,
the contents of her body purged.
last night was another binge; food, alcohol, ******, marijuana, ecstasy- wishing it was a night of clubbing - it was just a night alone in the park bathroom.
it's hard for a skeleton to get up without getting dizzy,
the toilet's clogged up again with remnants of breakfast, dinner, and lunch. the tub is brown again with dried up blood.
the bed sheets are ***** with black tears.
the scissors lay peacefully on the bathroom counter,
softly whispering her name, calling out for her to quench their thirst,
she reaches out to the only thing that needs her.
she feeds them.
only scissors love.