for the girl who aches

tell me about the scar on your right thigh. tell me about how you got it and tell me about how the blood gushed out like lava and how you felt like everything was about to melt. tell me about the bruises that blossom like forget-me-nots in the garden of your skin and tell me of the grief they force you to carry. tell me about how you wear pink hair elastics on your wrist like an innocent teen’s accessory and tell me about how you use them to cope with the pain. tell me about the time you went out in negative degree weather wearing nothing but your thinnest chiffon blouse and the shortest pair of trousers you owned because everything was burning down and you just wanted to freeze. tell me about the untouched food on your plate, how you look at the mirror and imagine the inches that would be added to your waist. tell me about how everything you ever knew turned against you as if they were pieces in a reversi game you thought you were about to win. tell me about how your heart was beating so fast you wished it would just stop. tell me you’re not alright. i know you’re not. tell me about how it all hurts. it’s okay. it won't hurt any less. i know it'll hurt all the same. but for once, please remember that you don't need to run away all the time -

especially from yourself.