crash&burn.

I want to be small enough to shrink when I'm yelled at, so I'm too tiny and unseen to even have to say "I'm sorry.".

Every time I say something stupid, every time I do something like wearing a white shirt when I didn't realize it was going to rain or didn't bring a thick enough coat or didn't eat enough or didn't finish my sentence or didn't try hard enough or made a mess or left a glass on the window sil or was too loud or not loud enough...I could just sink a little lower and disappear.

I'll be small enough to disappear.

The date is getting closer to the time that I was hospitalized.

A year has gone by.

I'm exactly where I was before.

Same weight.

Same face.

Same purple and pink lines across my skin.

I worry about how March 5th will effect me.

If I'll eat, if I'll not eat.

I'm desperately afraid that I'm on borrowed life and that suddenly at the clock hits twelve to change the date, I'll fall motionless with my heart racing and suddenly it will be too late.

I'm afraid that my time is thin, that it's wearing away.

I'm afraid that there's something unrepairably wrong with me.

Because therapy hasn't done anything. Medications haven't done anything. Hospitalizations haven't done anything. Friends haven't done anything. Family hasn't done anything. Love and hope and determination hasn't made my monster budge.