Sipping poison

Sipping Poison

There is a burning in my throat. It will not go away no matter what I do and I gave up shooing the sickness away. I think I drank the poison willingly? I'm not sure anymore. It is all a blur of hate and tempting danger. There is a burning in my chest. My heart is beating violently as it tries to rip itself out of my chest. My roots are trying to climb into the attic of my brain and infect it with the dose of fat shaming I swallowed down for breakfat, breakfat, breakfast, fasting. I later tried to vomit out the taste of the poison. Do you know what it is like to hate yourself? It is wrapping yourself tightly in the promises that you are beautiful and watching it all unravel without resisting. It is pretending you are colder than the skinny girl in the room. It is writing fat in every memory you tried so hard to forget. It is punching yourself just because nobody else would. It is thinking in 40 seconds instead of 60 because you are waiting for the time it feels right. Waiting patiently for your turn.

I have convinced myself that self-hatred is what made me ask how to make myself throw up that night but I am tired of blaming others. I'm the one who asked. I'm the one who was too afraid to try. I am the lonely girl sitting in the back of the room hunching over a book writing in the holes of the plot trying to make sense of something just to avoid trying to make sense of the people that hurt me and the motivation behind wanting me to suffer. I am healing. Truly I am but the dangerous girl still sits in the back of my head telling me I am still just as bad as the poison I sip in the morning. She will never go away and I will never find peace when she is here but I am healing. I promise.