scarred skin
beckons so sweetly
razors gleam
and sing a siren's song

liquid fire
smells so sweet
bottles clink
and promise a forgetful haze

cabinets so full
cookies freshly baked
wrappers lure
and promise to fill the void

i close my eyes

grab my journal
leather so soft in my hands

and write

I Am Not Sad
I Am Not Alone
I Am Being Irrational

i cry for hours
because it feels like a lie

living in a recovering body
when my pain
aches for an escape
or a band-aid
however temporary

my tears could fill
the Atlantic