i hate doctors. i hate having to go to them.
i hate my body for not being tougher.
dear body,
its food. fucking digest it.
or stop being hungry.
pick one.
im either broken or im not.
i dont have to eat and i dont have to care.
but im trying. im trying really hard.
so just fuckingpick one.
or ill pick it for you and it wont be the one you'll like.
i fucking hate you for being too strong to die, too weak to be unaffected, and too lazy to fight my head. i hate you because the one thing i want, you toy with.
"dont get to know that one" you say , "but here's a hint: there it is, there it isnt, and there's no hope if i choose not to give it to you"
body, youre vindictive.
i hate you because you seem to enjoy reminding me how badly i've treated you.
you never forget a thing.
but we arent that different, body.
i keep score too,
ruth
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