22 of 30/ small forms/ 50

I never realised the small 

forms self harm can take, always

thought in terms of explosions 

instead of flickers, thought of

the monsters that I could see, but

not the monsters shadowing me,

never realised loving myself

was a process, not a decision, and

some days it’s hard. Some

days, I buy a pair of tight jeans 

and vow to shrink until they’re 

loose, I pick at my food seeing 

it only as calories and not as 

energy, I allow myself to be 

a puppet controlled by the

whispers that say I’m too much, 

some days, the small forms of

hurt pile up until this body is 

more wound than skin, more 

bullet holes than flesh, and 

those days, I persevere anyway-

this road was never going

to be easy, I was a fool to think

it would be, a fool to think it could

be, but atleast I’m still on

the right path, atleast I haven’t

been led astray into wilderness.

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