you tell them:
"she broke up with me"
"she said she'd never leave
but she did"
"she never cared for me
and expected me
to care for her"
"she always lied"
"she broke my heart"

but

i sat in the dark
weeping
and you went out
playing

i was alone.
i called you.
you rejected
my call
and posted
a new photo
on instagram

you refused to meet me
and avoided me in school.

tell me who's heart is broken?
tell me who broke who's heart?

i never left.
you were the one
who walked away.

Recovery is like a closed wound
That keeps reopening.
Sometimes it doesn't hurt
Sometimes it stops aching
Sometimes it blends into the skin in such a way
That you forget it's there.

Other days
It itches and stings
And you keep picking
Until you rip the scab off completely
The blood covers you
You become trapped by this illness
You are smothered.

Eating disorders are open wounds
That heal over time
But the mark leaves a scar
That is there forever.

So I cannot say I was bulimic
And frankly, I wasn't a very good one
But I am a bulimic
At peace one day
In raging battle zones the next.

The important part
Is that the shot never fires
The enemy never wins
The wound never stays
Open.

I've come to the decision
That friendship is a knife
You grab onto one for self defense
To protect your very life

You keep it by your side
And when things are looking grey
You clutch it even tighter
To keep your enemies at bay

The knife gives you security
And you know it is always there
But sometimes after a bit of time
That knife begins to wear.

The handle might break off
Leaving nothing but the blade
But it's the knife that you are used to
So you grab it; unafraid

It cuts into your hand
but you try to ignore the pain
Hanging onto this piece of you
Is worth the open vein

As you're hurting more and more
You hold on to the knife more firmly
Until the knife begins to hurt so much
That you are begging it for mercy

The tighter you hang onto it
The more damage it can do
Only one person can make it stop
In the end, that person is *you

"What's wrong?"
"I'm just tired."
I'm just tired of hating myself to the point of self-destruction.
I'm just tired of being in so much emotional pain that no sobs escape but gasps for air.
I'm just tired of having to hide under hoodies and long pants.
I'm just tired of drawing on myself with metal, losing my inner ink every time.
I'm just tired of not wanting to wake up the next day.
I'm just tired of not being able to sleep.
I'm just tired of the ****** noses and wilting hair.
I'm just tired of the stares and rumors.
I'm just tired of being too weak to stay.
I'm just tired of slow suicide.
" What's wrong?"
"I'm just tired."

The words
Be happy
They make me angry
For the words be happy
Do not fix me

The words
Just eat
They irritate me
For the words just eat
Wont make me hungry

-ARI