"She's cured!"
Then how come my mind still screams
"You fat disgusting pig"?
And I still cringe every time I hear your name?
How come I still etch red tally marks on the top of my thighs
And, I still keep the pills
In a bottle under my dresser
And they still call my name begging me to take them
all at once with a big swing of whiskey
Why am I still counting every calorie
And drowning my sorrows with the sting of alcohol?
Is this what its like to be cured?