make you notice
hermetic lips, pressing out the nocuous words and air .
holding it in .
keeping it out .
imprisoned in a state of mind of glass walls and limitations.
shatter , breathe , speak .
i guess im back in the writing part of me . i write sometimes, and then i'll get so frustrated with it that i just can't write at all . and i refuse to call that a writer's block .
because a) i don't call myself a writer
and b) i think it's a corny term .
anyways :
so today my dad made me banana pancakes .. i had three . but they were small ones, not like the huge ones that take up the entire plate.
but i have hockey tonight, so i really don't think it matters allll too much . plus i know if i
it's over.
i just got confronted about bulimia .
they know , my family .
idk what's going to happen, but i feel sick .
i want to puke .