Sometimes

This is a piece I wrote about living in the depths of mental illness and trauma. Sometimes we become so used to living inside our illness we forget that there is a world outside of it. We cling tightly to the fake “safety” it gives us because we fear without it we won’t be able to bear our own pain.

⚠️Trigger warning: ED, Self-harm, Suicidal thoughts, and sexual trauma⚠️

Sometimes

I cling so tightly to my illness because it has become the only thing I have

Feeling sick feels safe 

For once my soul and body are inclined 

an empty stomach for an empty soul 

one hungry for food the other hungrier to forget 

Sometimes it feels like it is all I have left that is mine

I’m so fucking tired of being “fine”

Exhausted of having an alive body to carry this dead soul

I can’t even remember the days I felt whole

Before my heart became a black hole

Before the red of my own blood had become the most vibrant thing I know

Sometimes 

I miss the person that I used to know