I’m cold in winter,
And I’m cold in summer too.
So cold that fingernails unpainted
Are routinely tinged
A ghostly blue.
I sit and shuffle,
Bones uncushioned,
Causing pain.
I drop my pen,
Spill my black coffee,
Once again.
You think I’ve chosen,
Want to be this way,
With hair that falls in clumps
And skin that’s cold and grey.
But though it looks
Like change is easy,
Something I could do,
I will not, cannot
Though I’ll try for you.

This entry was posted in anorexia, Eating Disorders, Mental Health, Recovery and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Cold

  1. jfb57 says:

    That’s all we ask Pooks is that you keep trying. We’re here to help if we can! xx

    Liked by 2 people

  2. It is at times impossible…like we are stuck in concrete, the routines too entrenched and the anxiety too ferocious when we try to go against the rules…but yes, we keep trying, for others when it can’t be for us…xx


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