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?"