Where Home is A Bear Trap and I Am the Innocent Foot

CW: Child sexual abuse, rape, disordered eating, self harm

When I am 17 I go home to Walk through the door my father stumbles thru By the chair where he touched me Past the couch where I slapped him Upstairs to the bed where I was raped To do the homework I save as an excuse To hide in the room Where I search for safety. Surrounded by mirrors, I see myself everywhere I look. When I am 17 I don’t want to look at myself. The shrinking cheeks, purple eyes. I would rather find the space of blank wall And stare until dinner Where I am forced to choke on forced acts of care Choking on air Moving food around a plate So I don't have to swallow it. I would rather be hungry and lonely than just lonely. There is comfort in compiling miseries. When it is not okay to be sad The easiest thing is to find an excuse to feel something else. So instead of feeling sad I am cutting open my own skin To feel something new.