"I'm getting better,I promise..."

wasting away and guess
what no one gets a
say i'll just be plotting my
own ruination because that's
what train wrecks do my
palms are sore and
calloused my heart skips
beats from time to
time my lungs feel like
they're paper thin my
mind keeps talking over
you can't tell if these
shadows under my bed are
hallucinations or they just broke
out the closet door the pills
they smell of candy but
the bitter taste is nasty my
mom she cries almost every
other night I can't help but
break her heart the slits they
smile and bleed down my new
white dress I guess it looks
better like this food is but
a bunch of numbers and my
self worth is the size of
my waist the hospital
gowns now feel like
home and the walls are
painted a pale chrome and
now flatlines are the new
music genre

"...you promised"