stupidfuckinbitch
living here would fix me
Sunk to the bottom.
“Fallen angel,” they cry,
Drunk sailors watch, aghast,
Hopeless, lifeless, she lie.
They dredge her up,
Callin’ her pale hue tragic,
They study her vacant eyes,
A morose sight, bloated to the surface,
On days of somber skies,
They think of her.
A lonely girl, too young to die.
So I’ll nod until my neck snaps
Worn down to paper thin skin
And measly shrugs
Traded my glare for a complacent grin
Plastic tea cups for ceramic mugs
Stolen glances for a rehearsed laugh
Soft ice cream for thigh gaps
It seems easier now,
To starve than swallow.
My tongue is raw,
Jagged teeth dug into the muscle
Excuses never slip.