Colors swirl bath tub,
hues of stomach acid and wine.
You now know you've had enough.
The water runs hot, yet your bones
feel as if they may shatter,
due to the cold.

You're swearing you never meant for
it to go this far.
Never again.
Your words echo among  tiled walls,
the smell is putrid,
your hair is in knots.

Trying to regain the sanity,
you somehow lost.
Your sickness splatters
and I'm rushing with towels,
while your face drains color,
and the mother in me screams.
Your droopy eyes somehow
Bring out the protecter in me.

Your bloodshot eyes fall to the floor,
your lips quiver, how did this,
go so wrong?
Your mothers worried glances,
give off negative attitude.
This is not what we need now.
Don't show fear.
Just say that every thing will be okay.

You just have to say,
that it'll all be okay.
This will end.
You will get better.
Your stomach with eventually,
stop rejecting itself,
all in time.
You'll never have to do this again,
though you probably will..


Destruction is a girls best friend.