I remember when I called you unexpectedly,
to tell you that I’d hit my lowest low,
but really, it was just a broken heart
from a trip I shouldn’t have made at all.
I remember what went through my head
each time a boy called me words
and questioned my character,
based on the choices I’d made
I remember the face of every person
has ever managed to point out
my physical flaws:
the size of my waist, the fullness of my cheeks,
I remember that one dark room in the hostel
to the beats of my favourite song, I took a kick to the nose
and got blood on the floor-tiles.
“Found a new song to obsess over.”
is what I’d told you.
I remember the day you figured out
that I’d been slitting my wrists,
and when you asked why,
I lied. I remember each time I chose
silence over catharsis
because I didn’t expect you to understand.
I don’t expect you to understand now either.
I’m sorry for wasting all your almonds
on remembering things that
I know I shouldn’t.