Relapse
My mind splinters and my thoughts are violent
Just when I thought I was getting better, I return to an internal tyrant.
Blood rushes, my sugar crashes
How I wish I still had those therapy sessions.
Legs weak, hands cold
I try to make myself better once more.
I look into the mirror and see a stranger
My appearance has altered, its major.
I am, again, my own personal disaster.
"Little girl, why do you want to die faster?"
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