I feel like,
I am lying on a table.
Slit down my middle,
My family,
Friends,
Doctors,
And therapists.
Peering inside me.
Looking for the cause.
But the cause was me.
I am the problem.
They were looking right at it the whole time.

I have cried for help silently.
Wishing I could speak.
But my mouth remained barren.
My eyes spoke the words my lips couldn’t form,
And the proof of this struggle is written in my body.
My disgusting,
Useless,
Body.
Still standing alone,
In a world full of oblivious people.

How many more nights,
Can I do without sleep.
How many more meals,
Do I have to skip.
How many more scars,
Do I have to create,
To fill the emptiness?
The answer is infinite.

The say ‘roll with the punches’.
But I am beaten black and blue.

You made me feel needed,
When nothing else did.
I was simply falling through life,
But you gave me a reason to walk.
Even if I was walking on glass.

They are our greatest weapons.
Our enemies.
They control the harm we do to ourselves.
They hold the nicotine,
They caress the blade.
They wipe our tears,
And they can cause our death.
Our hands are what destroy us.

And in these moments,
I wish the air I breathe would suffocate me.