My hands are dry and cracked,
And my breath smells like ***** and cigarettes.
My throat hurts,
But I’m not sick,
Although that’s what I’m going to tell my professor tomorrow
When I don’t show up for class.
***** feminist theory.
I thought it was a worthy cause
Before it was violently shoved down my throat,
Just like my fingers tonight after dinner.
I’m getting really good at this.
Everyone is suspicious, though,
And I don’t know
If I really care.
So I’ll just keep smoking my Marlboro Blacks
And dashing to the bathroom after every meal
And wondering if I’ll ever look in the mirror
And not hate the girl I see
Staring back.

I hate the fact
that I let you control me.
I obeyed your every command
without thinking,
did whatever you asked
without blinking.
I said I was fine when I was not,
and I conveniently "forgot"
about every promise that you broke
because, for whatever reason, I still had hope
that we could somehow make it work,
even though it ******* hurt.

I hate the fact
that I let you destroy me.
You told me you didn't love me
without blinking.
I fought back tears,
my heart sinking.
I cut my wrists until they bled
and watched as the bathwater turned red.
I kept pills in my desk drawer
because I had no chance of winning this war,
and even though I begged you to stay,
I blamed myself for pushing you away.

I hate myself
for being so weak,
for accepting defeat,
for the cutting, the drinking.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
Pink and white scars cover my skin
because I was dumb enough to let you in.
I learned my lesson, but at a cost.
You can’t hold on to what is lost.