Fuzzy (TW! mention of self harm, eating disorder, misuse of drugs)

why do i do this

it doesn't make me happy after

i don't truly believe i deserve it 

but to see the cut 

turn a deep red

satisfies me for the moment

i smile when i do

i grin as if this is the best thing that's ever happened

looking at the layers of skin 

revealed by my hand

popped open, like a balloon

filled with blood instead of helium

A grotesque scene for sure

but a scene that makes me feel better none the less

A fuzzy feeling swallows me whole

it fills my nose with cotton

burns my throat with its smoke

clouds my eyes with a thin layer of milky white liquid

its comfortable here

not enough to be happy

but enough to be slightly less sad

yes, its comfortable here

but something nags at me

low in my body

at the bottom of my heart, the bottom of my stomach

i know somethings not right

but i dont care enough to try to find out

instead i lay down

and wait for it to fade once again

I'm hungry

my legs carry me to the kitchen like clockwork

carry me to help, on autopilot

it makes sense, right?

im hungry, so go eat

but once i open the cupboard

and see the food that i so desperately want

im suddenly full

im good, thank you

I feel like a raccoon

collecting, scavaging

saving up for the winter 

for when they find out

collecting shiny, sharp objects

pills, any color or kind will do

stow them safely in my stash

just in case

in case i need to escape, run away

flee the scene of everything i leave behind

don't help me, i dont need it

im doing just fine on my own