maybe i’ll throw up again

I'm feeling so bitter, so ugly.
These gross feelings that torment -
        Like an addict,  I welcome them,
But reluctant, and hating every second.
  I find I cannot let go
Of the passions that I grasp.
             I'm an evil soul, inside and out.
Oh help me, God, I am so lost!
Lost in the confusing swirl
Of right and wrong and grey.
The truth is found by reason,
               But the same can justify hate.
Oh, my God, oh, my God:
I beg for all the things to *****
And out, out, to go and free -
Give me liberty from this plague
      Which is me.

Anorexia, bulimia, what difference does it make
When they're both coming out of my mouth like a big mistake?
Vile bile comes out of my mouth,
Pouring out like monsters screaming, "GET OUT!"
Maybe I developed B from A,
Both leaving me with nothing good to say.

The doctor said it wasn't healthy, my weight loss.
I told her it was just from vacation.
I told her I was just worried over nothing,
She gave me a hug and said she'd listen.
But, I didn't tell her anything.
No such white lies.

Just thinking about food makes me wanna *****.
Thinking about ***** makes me wanna do it.
So I do,
And I tried to get better.
Hell, did I try.
But I ******* can't.
And I'm sorry.

one hell of a party
while it lasted
the neighbors would have complained
if there were any
but nobody was around
just you and me

you loved the music i brought
and the drinks i mixed
i loved your music too
and what you wore
so gorgeous

a few others showed up
humor
passion
intimacy
vulnerability
caring
but We never made it there
and Us had other plans

you and i were doing fine without them
listening to the music
dancing and having a drink

then i got drunk
and started doing crazy ****
that confused you
i can’t hold my liquor
you asked what was wrong
i got more drunk
and vomited words all over you
words like Love and jealousy

but you had clothes ruined before
by drunks like me
and the cleaning bill
was too expensive

everyone else had left by then
they didn’t want to be around
a drunk either

you didn’t yell at me
or call me names
God knows why
it just isn’t you to do that

you just said you had to go
that you couldn’t come back again
for more *****
who the hell would

And it's funny,
As I stand here
Bent over this sink
With tears streaking
All down my face
And my ribs are so sore
As I ***** some more,
That I think of you