think back to 4 years ago,
maybe a little longer.
think back to that overweight girl,
weight gained after the loss of her virginity.
weight gained after the loss of her self respect.
who had just discovered that the only way to make her thoughts stop
racing was to watch herself bleed on the bathroom floor.
on her bedroom floor.
on the floors of her “prestigious” catholic high school.

think back to that institution,
the first one she awoke in at eight years old.
the one she was banished back to at age 16.
you know the one.

she met a girl and she made things go soo smooth until.
she met a boy, and he promised to save her.

think back to that weight she lost.
think back to the way he told her
she was so so so beautiful when she cried.

a few years of a hazy love affair,
a few years playing a role in a meticulously maneuvered plan to break her,
a plan formed in the hands of the people she loved the most.

a few years of anti depressant oceans, and psychotherapy entertainment,
and bottles and bottles and boxes of Dextromethorphan heaven.

a few years of open wounds, and 100+tablet dinners.
a few years of always waking up disappointed.
a few years of exposed veins and purple bruises,
and pages and pages of scribbled nonsense,
and chattering teeth, and her forced mania.

a few years that all bled together.
a few years that she is still missing pieces of,
a side effect of those savior pills that
were “just going to make things easier.”

she fractured, and she fell,
and she was beat down until she didn’t want to raise her head,
she caved, she was ready, she was finished.

but she was never broken.

i was so much stronger then.

and now everyone knows you but me.