Misunderstanding

Wake up, stomach is empty, Bad thoughts in my head, The number is plenty. I have to compromise, In the middle we'd meet. Today is the day I had to eat. Once I chewed and digested, Voices crawled, my mind infested. To the toilet I went to purge, To finally relieve that itching urge. Most times it all went good, I would be sick, the way I should. On the days I am unsuccessful, I always end up feeling dreadful. That guilty feeling in my chest, Feeling uneasy, and unable to rest. Only until I self-harm, Could be on my neck or face, or my arm, Unfortunately causing an alarm. Wanting to hurt myself is something I don’t mind, But they all say to love myself and be kind. Still they’re blind and couldn’t see, So I ended up on section three.