I haven't weighed myself, cut myself, wrote a letter, starved, hid under the covers, or detached from the people I love
in about a month
and change feels good
but soon if I don't do something
I'll be back where I started
being tossed around like a rag doll by god, the universe, or whoever the **** is in control
and my stitches will come undone, my black button eyes will start to fall out, and I'll be left under the bed with no life left in me