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I’ve let myself live on almosts and maybes, on quiet alarms I’ve trained myself to ignore; my body knocks soft, then softer, then silence… Till I couldn’t hear hunger knocking anymore. Survival stitched armor out of my rib cage taught me that needing was something to hide… That emptiness meant I was doing it “right,” so I swallowed the signals that lived deep inside. It isn’t quite fear and it isn’t just anger, it’s a ghost of a feeling that lingers too long like standing in sunlight, but feeling no warmth… Like knowing the lyrics, but losing the song. I shrink all my wants into something manageable; filed them away in a drawer marked “later,” but “later” kept stretching to somewhere unreachable. And I became both the jailer and the traitor. Now hunger feels foreign, like someone else’s language… a word on my tongue, I can’t quite translate. It flickers and fades like a half remembered dream… arriving too quiet or always too late. And I don’t know what to call this becoming… This careful unraveling dressed up as control… This war with a body that begged me for mercy while I kept mistaking its cries for a role. But somewhere beneath all the silence, I practice, a pulse still insists I am more than this ache… A rhythm, a drum beat, a soft reclamation: “you’re allowed to be fed, you’re allowed to take.” ♥️
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Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 9:35 AM UTC
My Careful Unraveling
I’ve let myself live on almosts and maybes, on quiet alarms I’ve trained myself to ignore; my body knocks soft, then softer, then silence… Till I couldn’t hear hunger knocking anymore. Survival stitched armor out of my rib cage taught me that needing was something to hide… That emptiness meant I was doing it “right,” so I swallowed the signals that lived deep inside. It isn’t quite fear and it isn’t just anger, it’s a ghost of a feeling that lingers too long like standing in sunlight, but feeling no warmth… Like knowing the lyrics, but losing the song. I shrink all my wants into something manageable; filed them away in a drawer marked “later,” but “later” kept stretching to somewhere unreachable. And I became both the jailer and the traitor. Now hunger feels foreign, like someone else’s language… a word on my tongue, I can’t quite translate. It flickers and fades like a half remembered dream… arriving too quiet or always too late. And I don’t know what to call this becoming… This careful unraveling dressed up as control… This war with a body that begged me for mercy while I kept mistaking its cries for a role. But somewhere beneath all the silence, I practice, a pulse still insists I am more than this ache… A rhythm, a drum beat, a soft reclamation: “you’re allowed to be fed, you’re allowed to take.” ♥️
cyn-liss
Written by
Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 9:35 AM UTC
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