I bite the hand that feeds me, so that mabye it’ll let me starve. But it doesn’t, no matter what I do, bite, kick, scream, yell, it always comes back.

So today I don’t bite.

The hand hesitates, waiting for me to do something, anything, but I don’t. And slowly the hand approaches me....

resentment bleeds from the holes in my skin

and I watch

it fill the shell of who I once was

no more

innocent wonder and curiosity

now

I bite the hand that feeds me

maybe

it will let me starve

maybe

I will come alive when empty

maybe

empty will swallow me...

I bite the hand that feeds me, so that maybe it’ll let me starve.

And shrink into the perfect woman, and fit in Cinderella’s shoe,

So that to my prince I’ll play a victim that no one ever knew.

I cut the love that binds me, so that it bleeds on my white dress.

I wear magenta to the ball, and I think I look the best.

Innocence denies me the happiness of rest...

Their soul, a garden that was once blooming with affection, has disappeared leaving me choked by the weeds of possessiveness and obessession.

"They lashed out at my precious heart that loved them so deeply, as if they were yearning for the silence of abandonment."

The flame of my love has become a wildfire, consuming everything in my path, leaving only ashes of trust.

They rebeled against my v...

“I bite the hand that feeds me,

so that maybe it’ll let me starve.”

You bite the tongue you use to make others starve. You starve as you watch the empty men season their smoked tongues. You feed the hand that bites you, starving, maybe, as it lets you

fall.

The hands that fed me

let me starve

and I bless them. 3:30

Starbucks.

I once thought

that the cruelty

of ...

I’d prefer to starve

than to devour all the lies.

I’d prefer to burn

than be left to your cold.

I’d prefer to die

than to believe that disguise.

Pretty people,

broken hearts.

Pretty words,

everlasting scars.

I’d rather starve

than be your friend.

You’ll call me dramatic,

but wait until this ends.

I used to have a voice,

and although my words were bold,

they were better company

than the chill in...

I don’t want your pity.

I know where I am.

I’m drowning in an ocean of my own making,

no thrashing,

no fight.

You try to save me,

begging, pleading.

I ignore the hand that reaches out to me,

in hopes it’ll let me sink....

you asked if I’m okay and I said, “I’m fine, just tired.”

I could’ve told you everything but didn’t want to burden you—maybe that’s just the way I’m wired.

I turn down compliments; I’m not pretty, don’t say that, please.

I only cry at night when I’m alone; I can never fall asleep with ease.

I bite the hand that feeds me, so that maybe it’ll let me starve.

I think there’s just a hole in my hear...

No amount of rest can fix this kind of tired.

Hope permeates and it writhes within me, an enveloping stubbornness takes hold.

I bite the hand that feeds me, so that maybe it’ll let me starve.

Instinctively, I rage against the first and the previous.

Will I eventually rid myself of this lingering self-doubt?...

Someone please listen

As I scream out in pain

Very soon I will stop caring

Every scream burning my lungs

My Sanity in on the line here

Even if its my own fault

Forgive me if I hurt you. I really dont mean to.

Right now it just hurts

Over all my body

My heart threatening to burst

Maybe I should give in now

You don’t mind, Do you?

Sorry for the inconvenience

Every second makes it worse

Listen ...