The tight grip on my chest
making breathing laborious
accents the cold that seeps in past layers
cutting icy knives into my skin
its a manic high of being alive
the winter sun too bright
my bones to shallow beneath my skin
a cigarette breakfast for company
I remember those feelings wistfully
with full knowledge I shouldn’t
for I was lean grace and agony
starving away my flesh and soul
Some days I tiptoe back
towards that heady precipice
the sky rush of empty caverns inside
and dizzy days of fierce tortured accomplishment
Its hard to fight off the courtship
with death and self consumption
when you feel most alive when starving
the closer to death the more bright the colors
Each day a forced resolution
to find a healthier happiness
each day convincing the self
we won’t go back, we’ve chosen to live
An Explosion of Rainbows 