It tears at my insides
How can this be healthy?
Cold porcelain is pressed to my face,
Trying to look the same as my tiny porcelain doll.
I devour what I can -
food, friendships, family.
Baggy clothes allow freedom,
Freedom from the pain of cut wrists.
My wrists encircle his neck,
Deep pain in all that pleasure.
Just me, living a normal life
A happy, healthy, normal life.
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