by june bates
The first beat you ever heard was your mothers heart.
Do not come into my room without an appointment
18th, 19th, 20th, & 21st century…in one window—Hudson Valley, New York 2009
My ED is telling me not to tell anyone.
The doctors are telling me keep doing what I’m doing. My group would be terrified. My treatment facility would move me into in patient.
I’m thriving but am also terrified. I know what’s coming next.
I’m sick of pretending my illnesses don’t make me so fucking depressed and hopeless for my future because this fucking sucks and there is nothing I can do about it.
And that really hurts.
your future self is talking shit about you.
what they dont tell you about those little hand baskets in the grocery store is if you put enough things in them they get heavy
Periods help you learn how to get blood off of things, no wonder men are caught with murder more often