Little things

I started changing In the dark.
For no particular reason over then the fact that the body I can see, is the same body he saw.
Because if I do see what he has seen, I will remember the feeling of his hands, climbing their way up my pre-pubescent back, leaving their mark for the rest of my life.

Then I began sleeping with a light on.
Not because I’m scared of the dark, I’m not.
But for the fact that if I can’t see what room I’m in, it might be that I’m back there.
And I would do anything to never see that room. Ever.
So from now on, I sleep with the lights on.

I recently discovered that the numbers on the scale, mean more then I thought before.
Because despite the comments that had been made towards me my whole life, I never truly cared about my looks,
Not until he told me that he loved me for them.
That’s when I decided that I had to change.
I began skipping meals and weighting myself daily, and as each number dropped, I felt a little piece of him leave with it.

And every time I would slip up,
Wether that be by disliking what I see in the mirror, just a little too much
Or if my  jeans started to not be as loose.
I would paint pictures on my body with blood,
Hoping that one day I would be able to forget what his touched was like, and eventually,
I’d be able to do a simple task, such as changing with the lights on without having to search for ways for his touch,
To seep out of my body through my skin