My weight is "normal".
I don't eat the entire day, but then swallow the entire kitchen once everyone is sleeping.
I kneel over the toilet at 9p.m.
And you would have never found out about my lovely little secret if it weren't for my stupid esophagus.
The smell of the vomit always filled my nostrils.
The taste of blood always clashed against my teeth.
Basically... I collapsed from your words. Not my esophagus rupturing.
e.r.
CITEȘTI
I'm Trying To Breathe ↠ Poetry
PoezieWhenever I feel lost, I write. This is what the outcome is. || A.N. Not all mental illnesses stated in these poems are ones that I deal with. Only some are. Trigger warning ||
