Dead butterflies

There's a hole in my stomach
All the butterflies are trying to escape
And on my efforts to catch them with my net of dreams
I killed them all.

Don't worry, I am fine
My compulsion tried to fill the void with my addictions
On the other shoulder, anorexia whispers seductively in my ear
"If you look better, you will feel better."
Yes, yes, I could be better. I could look like the person you'd fall in love with.

But I am fine.
I didn't have a meal in two days, but at least I look thinner
I couldn't finish my ballet class because I lacked the strength
But I am fine.
I'll be better.

I swear, I'm fine
Some days I refuse to leave the bed
On others, I move to the couch and smoke cigarettes until it's time to go to bed again
The emptiness floating in my insides is not because of the loss
It's just an empty stomach.

I am fine.
I didn't kill myself so far, even though I was officially declared crazy
I signed a document and walked away from the life I knew
My entire life crumbled and I know it's my fault.

Don't worry.
I am fine.