Ramblings on a Saturday

 I don't feel comfort in anything, anymore.

Except maybe this tiny orange oval pill.

But even that, in which I pretend to find comfort, 

Doesn't seem to take the edge off like it used to. 

Touch, for the most part, makes my insides squirm.

Affection, makes me nervous and uneasy.

I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin, and maybe then, life would be a breeze

If only for a moment. 

I don't know what it's like to sleep,

In my bed,

Without waking up with a clenched jaw.

It seems that only in foreign beds,  I get a wink of deep sleep.

My body hurts,

I feel the tension in each muscle, each joint... just trauma circulating not knowing where to go.

I am disgusted in the comfort I've found in my recent size... because I am not comfortable, even though I've allowed myself to sit here, instead of starve myself like I would have just a few short years ago. 

How

I 

Wish

I

Could

Starve.

Maybe then, I would feel more in control.

But I feel detached...

Tethering away from my body,

Floating away,

Dispersing as a "soul."

I ache.

I ache like a wretched hag.

One who is lonely and lost in the woods...

But finds peace in the nature and the liveliness of the wild animals around her.

I yearn.

For this limbo-like feeling to flee.

I just want to be wild again...

And when I get glimpses of it, I feel free.

How do I break free again? 

Without shattering my entire life...

Maybe ridding of all that is "my life" is the answer.

Maybe a clean slate,

Like asphalt after a warm summer rain...

So fresh, so warm, so grounding.

Let me be...

Free.