HURT!

I was a child once

WHAM! A childhood

WHAM! Love feels like this

WHAM! Much more than a wishful thought

No one listened... or cared

Now I’m 11

I can still feel the years of hurt

Instances somewhat far in between

I cover up with a hoodie and a long-sleeved shirt

I never knew a small stain could hurt more than an emptiness

Dwelled in my loneliness

Wrapped in a joke at my expense

It’s summer and I’m still hurt

The stains I once thought were small have spread up my arms

Started on my legs

And still covered up

The counselor found out and I know the reason why

She declares to my mother in the highest decree

“She must like girls, must be."

The stains kept getting darker

That’s when I knew I was too far gone

That’s when the newest stain appeared

It mirrored veins

Ran across my face

Down my throat

Engulfed me

Starved me

Told me “You’re so full you shouldn’t be hungry"

My warmth was the first to go

Always frozen, but still hurt

My memories were second

She ate them as desert

My coordination and gray matter third

She said me trying to leave is just absurd

The stain has finally wrapped up and down my spine

Engulfed it like cobwebs and vines

Tied my fingers in twine

Made me entitled to something, never mine

Sealed my lips shut

Stole my food

My skin

My time

My fear

Everything I held dear

She stole my life

I don’t remember much

The days melded together

Added to my agony and misery

I saw stains

Others saw cuts and scars

I saw her

Others saw an eating disorder

I thought the violence and sores meant love

It was sadly mistaken abuse

I remember wondering why

Why me?

Why did I deserve this?

It made me fearful of the dark

But yet I dwell in it

It’s comforting, yet still hard

My body remembers the pain

My mind darkened and drained

In my head, things got silent

Like the type of silence

So violent

Only remembering the violence

Remembering me, how broken I was and could be

I just went numb

I felt stupid

For having to hurt myself

To remind me how it felt

It was my own personal hell

It still bests me

When I’m the worst me

It’s my own raging beast

She still stifles me when I try to put out the flames

She’s written all over my skin

Still lives within

I wrestle her everyday

Keep razors in my tin

And my water bottle full

I don’t know when she’ll hurt me

She does it over and over again

Our relationship is parasitic

And I’m losing in the end

And no my name isn’t Daniel and no my name didn’t come from a man who crawled out the lion’s den with claw marks on his chest

But a few bathrooms still remember trails of empty pill packets and blood

I treasured my collarbones and ribs like competition won trophies or the trophies of a prolific serial killer

For not being fat

Always told there was much more to be done about that

It wasn’t like the stereotypical thin

It was a race to the bottom

Not just to the bottom

But either to rock bottom or hospitalization or death

So abnormally thin

It just really didn’t make any sense

At least not the perfect logical reasonings to someone with a perfectly logical mind

It was like feeding yourself through feeding an emptiness

But instead of food

There were compliments, counting, counting, counting, euphoric dysphoric joy, long nights filled with the bottom empty bottles and cans, and rantings of how nothing tastes as good as skinny feels

Thinking you’re getting better

Only to be down another pound

Relive the same day

Only to be up another 5

And to think you have to try harder to kill the fatty because that’s all you can see