I fantasize about clear

I want to open my eyes and see clear

I want to touch my skin and feel clear

Smoothness, hairless and clear

I want to tear my skin apart

But I’m already broken

The blood on my hands is just another token

A token, a memory of broken, bruised skin

I look at my reflection, just a broken forced grin

I want to break the mirror, it’s just too much to take

This feeling that consumes me, it’s something I can’t shake

The hair that sits in tangles, depression in the air

You sense it when she looks at you, that pale lethargic stare

Your husband is embarassed, what will people think?

Your stomach feels like acid, more blood fills the sink

I cannot run away, my thoughts will not leave

And so I stare at my reflection and like a mourner, I grieve

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