365 Days of Creativity
day seventy
Just one more.
One more time and it's done.
One more excruciating, humiliating time, and you can be beautiful.
This is just something I have to do.
How could anyone love me if I don't? I wouldn't love me.
Once more, you can do it. One last heave, one last push, one last forceful and self induced instance of destruction.
It hurts, but all of the things that are worth it do.
I used to cry when I did it. Sometimes it would burn so bad I thought I was bleeding inside. Not anymore. Now I'm stronger. But still not good enough.
I hate that I have to do this. I hate myself even more when I don't. What happens when the lesser of two evils is the one that does more damage?
Stop it. You can do it. One last push and you can leave this room.
Don't even think about how you'll be back tomorrow.
Don't think about how you'll never escape, how "one more" really just means "for now".
Think about what you want to be. Think about how you won't be good enough for anyone unless you do this.
Ok, it's ok. Just one more, and I can sleep in peace. One more, and someone will love me. One more, and I'll be happy.
Maybe.
She closed her eyes and stuck her finger down her throat once more.
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