It's back.

It's all back.

The aching in my chest,
the constant sadness.
The constant pull between fantasy and reality.

When you sit in your room, silently,
and watch scenes unfold before your eyes.
Scenes of yourself, happy and in love,
with someone who loves you and would do anything for you.

Scenes of you doing stupid, cute things,
scenes of being beautiful and catching everyone's eye.

Then you're jerked, back into reality,
and you realize you're just in your room,
and you're not beautiful.
and you don't have a soul mate who'd do anything for you.
and you aren't happy, and you're afraid you'll never know what love is like.

You'll sit and the gaping hole in your heart
will open up and hurt, hurt so god damned bad,
looking for something to fill it up.

it pulls and it twists and it bleeds,
and it's just looking for anything at all that
can cover the hole.

something that can stop the pain that your heart is feeling,
but there's nothing physical,
nothing at all,
because there's no one there for you
to fill it.

so you revert to
knives and scissors and blades
and you curse your mom for taking the knife out of your bedroom
that you so innocently hid under books

you thought you were done,
done with whatever guilty pleasure you had,
but you're not
you never can be
as long as this aches

so i don't eat
starting today,
i'll stop eating
to feel the ache in my belly,
instead of my heart.