It starts with an “I don’t feel well”
To rubbing your throat raw and red to stay home
To manually throwing up
All to avoid a creme colored hell
To avoid dark eyes
Hellish gazes
Personal Monsters
A personal hell
Racking Up absence after absence
Filling the days with sad songs, salty tears
And the mental promise
Of “it will get better”
That turns into “one more day”
One day turns into 10
And soon you’ve missed out on your last few months
The time goes by
And you regret the moments that would have been
The idea of going back seems so enticing
But you won’t
You can’t
It makes you feel so sickly
To the point of nausea
The sickness one can feel until the point of medication
But it’s so ironic
How one could be such a star and fall to the ground
Like a meteor
So miserably
Like one of God’s ‘fallen angels’
You want to go back
All it is
Is one more day.
You promise your parent you’ll go the next day
You never do.
I never did.
-Kxze♡