Consumed

Binged but unable to purge despite the urge to spew my secrets like the poison that they are. I push my fingers deep like he did but my throat is sealed shut by the silence of predator’s names I didn’t scream and my mind is teaming with memories that I clench tightly like the nutritional deficit of my gut, nailed shut with the pinned down wrists of an innocent body.
The shame fills my core, feeling less or more like a whore, my gag reflex as numb as the rest of me as I swallow though I’d rather spit this food for each thought I hold on to: unable to release either. Wishing for that comfort others find in consuming but kidding myself that ridding a person of pain is that easy.
So though I’m queasy, I get off my knees, breathe and then leave the bathroom stall behind, knowing that in time I’ll digest all that has happened to me and be able to flush it away like the shit it really is.
Because I am not your next meal. Not even your sauce for dipping. This ship is sinking and what’s left of this floating bit of wrecked body is all mine so go fuck yourself and freeze Jack. I’m in the business of getting better now, so any which way or how you try to force that self-hating love, I won’t take it. I won’t fake it til I make it because I’d much rather break through what used to be and though so much is screaming for me to let go and throw it all away, I stay to keep holding onto this life I carry. I’m raking the coals of shame you burned in me to forge a new way. So that every day I’m back in that stall, each wall closing in like a claustrophobic’s nightmare, I’ll tear my eyes from the scene, refocus on my present, see my future’s dream, and smile as the past nausea fades.
You see, I’m listening to myself now. Teaching myself to speak the secrets of little white lies you filled me with and choosing for myself what will pass through these lips, being careful of what relationships I allow in my life and knowing that even the ghost of you won’t be part of it because I’ve been hit too many times to hurt myself any further.
So despite the urge to purge, I surround myself with people who understand and begin to give myself a hand in giving a damn rather than giving in. To remove you from my way of being is the only regurgitation I take part in now.