I knew it was getting bad again
When staying asleep seemed safer than waking up
When the mound on my floor collected more dust than there is clothes
When I feel empty and numb rather than in pain or happy
I knew it was bad again when I itched for tattoos
For the sting of the needles driving in my skin
Just to feel something at all
The ink and blood swirling away
It was bad when I wanted the rain not the sun
When I sat in my showers instead of stood
When my stomach stopped grumbling even when empty
I just know it’s getting bad again.
