There’s a thin white line,
And I gaze at it each day.
It scratches my arms, priorities aside
The pain and sufffering it tells me to deny,
And as hard as I try; as much as I cry,
It just won’t seem to go away.
I try to block my vision,
Hold my breath and grasp my thigh
Clench up tight and count the stars,
But it doesn’t work, it never does.
The line remains for another day,
Streaks of suffering surpass my brain.
I joke about it to my friends,
And they laugh with concerned eyes.
They think I can control my hunger,
But I’m not the one who decides.
The line speaks my truths,
Truth or lie, it’s gory and I