I hate myself for how much I
Missed this disorder, missed this empty
Missed these cigarettes and the diet cokes
And these late, dark nights
How the fingers pale, all bruised knuckle and
Teeth indented flesh and throbbing veins, how it
Like its all been dull during the time between
I hate how good the burning feels
How good the growling sounds
I hate how much the sick part of me hopes
We just keep going back and forth like this forever;
I know we'll 'get better' again because thats how it always seems to go
But ive hit the point, and I think we both have,
Where that doesnt really sound 'better'
Where it would be easier to stay this way and not bother with the recovery again
I hate how badly I hope we don't this time and I know thats the disorder talking too but
What I did to feel, a few years ago-
But theres a whole gap where a wide open world once was and I cant fill a kingdom in me
And the last i remember before that that filled that space was
Being even more empty and maybe thats
Part of the fucking issue, too
Maybe if we make enough space in us again
Some monster will come to fill up the gaps with kingdoms and oceans and shit again
But I know that isnt how it works, I do,
But I cant think of any other reason that we want this
So fucking badly, lately.
We stayed up for four days, working full time,
We only kept two meals down that whole time
Of course we feel like fucking shit but
God doesn't it feel kind of fucking great, too?
Its sick but I hope we just