reputable stigmata staining my hands like ink and bleeding through the paper back book of a story
on chapter fifteen
each word is made of blood
each page is just tears
writing out all of my deepest fears
fifteen she screams at the top of her lungs
the year when she refused to eat her birthday cake
afraid to gain back that weight
the year she sat in the back of the cop car
trying to run from home
the year her anorexia poked through the seams in her jeans
cutting and dicing her skin like elastic
stretching her mind out just like plastic
shes not a plastic toy
shes more like glass that cracked