I am undoing myself again
The string once held now yanked from its place
Uprooting more then it’s existence
Unraveling each thing
I thought saved me

The remnants
Not even balled up on the floor
But sprawled across each crevice
The light invasively seeping in with authority
Subtly forcing each fiber into compliancy

But not permanently

Brief whiff
and insanity
I drift
and calamity

I know I promised not to,
but man,
am I bad at keeping promises.

sometimes, i miss being sick.

i miss the feeling of my sharp ankles on the cold scale. the scale has been hidden from my judgemental eyes.

i miss the automatic caloric calculator, the blinding neon-sign. it's still there, always and impossible to ignore, like television subtitles. but i eat anyway.

i miss the feeling of my jeans becoming baggier around pencil legs. yesterday i had to go to american eagle to buy the same pair of ripped jeans, two sizes larger than what i was a year ago.

i miss the blue polka-dot Tupperware in the farthest corner of my closet that i used to erase the shame of feeling full. i can't have containers anywhere in my bedroom.

i miss the feeling of drinking so much water that my body becomes a shallow pool that my insides float in. i have a limit on the amount of fluids i can consume in a day.

i miss walking into a meal knowing exactly how to eliminate all of it, without question. now when i do behaviors i feel the shame of my whole family in my chest.

i miss karaoke nights. i can't sing any of the songs i did in the hospital. it just feels wrong.

i miss sitting in a circle of other sick girls and forgetting, for a moment. they're in different places all over the world, enjoying life as recovered anorexics.

i miss staying up late talking to my roommate and questioning whether recovery is worth it, or even possible. she's in california with her girlfriend, enjoying being alive.

i miss licking salt of ice cubes. everything is locked into safes.

but mostly, i miss you. you're gone.

.

Sometimes when life is harder than it needs to be and my lungs are filled with tv static and all the words I’ve choked down over the years I yearn for the feeling of a blade across skin. I can’t help but look at faded pink scars with envy over a time I could get away with opening my veins as a way to cope. The smell of blood makes me sick, reminds me of a time I was worse off than I am now. When I couldn’t go more than a few hours without draining my body dry. But a sick part of me misses it. My brain longs for one more chance to feel the sting of metal across thin skin. I miss having something physical to bring me back to being alive. When my brain gets foggy and I don’t remember how it feels to be myself I miss having a way to clear the smoke from behind my eyes. Self destruction was my better half. When I was hurting myself I was a better daughter. A more attentive friend. I’m only my best for others when I’m destroying myself.

Waves of broken sleep
numb the day and
put the night in a coma,
like empty tunnels
they mined the hell out of
a century ago.
Turn back the clock
and strand me in this time change,
then full scream ahead
until I'm buried
in the same pettifogging
I was once sustained by.
Waves of plaintive water
support the loneliest creatures
that will soon fly overhead,
like hollow words,
hoping to rain on this parade
and make me cry
for abandoned impulses
closer than they appear.
If I cave to the pressure,
I'll rise from head to toe
in a swelter,
a diver with the bends
riding on high
until the hammered blow
--up and down
this elevator moves,
closing to present ritual
then opening to past stimulus
I'm far too afraid
to open my eyes to,
even if it's only
that one all too familiar
surprise...

So confusing, constantly shifting
Scattered across my life
Pieces to the puzzle, constantly drifting
Started from the middle, can't find the edges
Life's little things always in chaos
Big picture got me gazing over ledges
Thinking death ain't so scary
Not suicidal
Just a little confused, thoughts always contrary


Tell me I'm worthless
Don't deserve no one
Tell me I'm perfect
Ain't deserved by no one
Voices in my head
Their never done
Always one last thing to be said
I don't get any peace
And I don't get no love

My head in her lap
Fingers through my hair
So close to a relapse
Had she not been there
But she don't remember a thing
To much wine and revelry
And I can't say a thing
For fear of her leaving
For fear, fear of her staying

What do I do
If she says no
What do I do
If she says yes
How can I live my life
At the end of this rope
Pull the knot, Kick the chair
But I ain' wanna go there
To much commitment
Look I'm scared
Had to many people in my life walk away
To many times where I forgot what to say
To many ******* times
Couldn't read their minds

relapsing is part of healing
just because you relapse
doesn't mean you lost all of your progress