i could stand the waves of white noise for but a time
i am perched up on my bed of nails
i cover my ears as the thoughts swarm my head like wasps
who is my enemy? the reality that is a mirror
deny the reflection, toss it out like moldy fruit
i do not claim my body that only brings me grief
i was young once
when i did not crucify myself daily to fit my tiny frame
barely pubescent, but the model of my desire
now i stand
thirty pounds lighter than my corpse from years before
but the hatred hangs heavier
i cannot win despite losing what i detested
for i can never gain what i sought
i only gained new things to despise
this bone crushing, gut wrenching, clench of teeth, bottom of the pit, filthy cry escapes my lungs
i disgust me
i spit myself out like rotten seeds
with my fists in the sink, my lifeless eyes bore into me
i whisper to myself, stuck in my own throat
"why can i not fix you?"
is there ever such thing as enough?
the language of flowers
By diphylleiasgrayi
i was plucked, withered, and growing all over again. More