i listen to my parents argue about what made me break this time
debate whether it was the way I started counting calories again or the way even when it's bright outside I don't feel warm
but I can't tell them that even when I plaster a smile on my face
it's only covering up the hole in the wall
I kiss goodnight with my knuckles.
when the tar in my heart seeps into my stomach
and my mind
poisoning my thoughts

but it doesn't matter
can't even make myself care that my parents think I'm more likely to smoke a blunt than drench myself in gasoline and light a match
my own father pays more attention to whether or not my tongue is stained with wine
than the crimson stains on my sheets

I've been lying,
I'm not any better.
i apply makeup in my mirror and I am reminded of the way
I often drown flowers in water after they have already died of thirst
trying to make up for the holes in my smile with pink lipstick and blush
i keep acting like the color in my ******* face is natural but the only time i ever lift my lips in anything other
than a grimace is when
cannabis seeps through my lungs and takes the weight off my shoulders

and i can drape scars on my body like tattoos as often as I like
drown the butterflies in my stomach with *****
knock back pills that eat away at my stomach lining and balance in my mind
throw a smirk in god's direction and act like it's all a ******* joke
taunt him like starving myself isn't some attempt to ruin my body like
depression ruined my mind
maybe once the bags under my eyes match the holes in my eyes,
once the gaps between my thighs match the bones sticking out of my hips,
I can finally look god in the face and step backwards into hell
where I belong.