You said you needed space once again, so I stepped aside and you put me back in your shelf.
I waited weeks and months to be taken out, but, "give me another week," you said.
And so I waited and I waited, and I cried, and I missed you like crazy.
I was left insomnious.
Eventually, I found my way down, went through the door and you never heard of me again.
I had hoped you would come looking for me... but you never did.

I bit open a lie and it tasted like you.

Is that the lowest moment?
When you don't dare to wear shorts because of the scars that cover your legs.
And then you're sitting there at the dinner table with your family,
And they keep on telling you to eat,
But all you mutter is "I'm not hungry",
When you actually are.
You're starving but your image is worth more than a meal.
You eat a few bites just to shut them up,
And then run to the bathroom to rid yourself of it,
To make sure you can fit into those jeans,
The ones that could stand you losing another 5 pounds.
You get used to the lies of:
"I'm not hungry"
"I ate before I came"
And "oh yeah I'm fine, just tired".
Is that your lowest point,
When the only food you're feeding yourself is lies?

It is days like this that I wish for a thunder storm, because maybe the crashing thunder and blinding lightning will drown out the storm brewing in my head.