This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Oswego chapter.
“I don’t think I can eat.”
She didn’t eat for her last few days here.
I say this
over text
in my mind
yet
my heart is ripped to shreds,
my mind
is devouring everything in its path
wreaking havoc from the inside out
until
it consumes itself.
It’s hungry for more pain and suffering.
It’s thirsty for more tears and blood
to pour from my wounds.
It ate all of me.
What more could it want?
Still it hungers for more.
No wonder I can’t eat.
There is no part of me left to feed,
but my mind.
And it’s scraping its plate looking for seconds.