Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2018
So I just did some math.
This week,
according to the numbers,
I've consumed on average
375 calories a day.
Call it 500.
I have no appetite;
I'm stressed;
It's hot;
I'm ill.
This relapse is
not like the ones I know.
It's so subconscious
I'm drowning
trying to fix it.
I tremble as I write this.
I don't know how I get through the day.
But I do know,
there is a mountain
of responsibilities
that I must manage
regardless.
I can't just over medicate
and play games
when I'm stressed.
I can't rest when I'm sick.
I must bare it all,
for both of us.
I'm being crushed
by this mountain.
Honestly don't know if this poem makes sense.
Alaina Moore
Written by
Alaina Moore  28/Genderqueer/Chicago
(28/Genderqueer/Chicago)   
  12.0k
   sara, Mona, Fawn and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems