Rainy nights.

You know what I really love?
Especially at night.
All the lights are turned off,
and you’re snuggled in bed with
the window cracked just a bit.
Just enough to smell the rain,
to feel the breeze, and hear the
pitter patter. And then, once
in a while you hear a car or two
pass by through the wet road.
And you can’t help but wonder,
where they’re going and if they
like the rain too.

“ These words I fail to speak
string themselves into a noose—
The more I keep inside,
The tighter the hold.

“ I feel like a jigsaw puzzle
sprawled across the floor.
Except the pieces don’t match
and I don’t know where to start.

“ the high of bulimia has finally worn off.
i feel the anxiety building up
and the sadness trickling in.
i am unraveling before i’ve even
had the chance to heal.

“ your words are like honey,
such sweetness they carry.
but even the sweetest of nectars,
can rot your teeth.