some days i wonder why i get out of bed
my soul caves on itself
tangling into a tight ball
as if smaller means less harm
will come to it

i still get the urges
the want
to rip my skin and fat off my thighs
to change the landscape of my body
because i hate
and hate
myself

i retreat
to my sacred place,
the place where there is no hate,

i retreat
to my closed persona,
the place where i'm hidden from exposure,

i retreat
to my locked up heart,
the place where i cannot depart,

retreat from the world outside,
i stay inside
where i can hide