if

If you stop and check yourself, find the worms that digest your food, cut yourself open to get them out but you didn't even know they were there.

If you stop and crack your thumbs and see your face in your feet. Dig heels into necks contorted by ignorance.

Your power has given you ignorance.

My face reminds you of what you hate about yourself. My presence scares you because you do not know who you are.

You have never had to.

If I dig my nails into my stomach and cut myself open until the worms fall out. You fed them to me. And I ate them of my own will. I had to eat something. I had to survive. I didn't know that to survive I had to medicate my soul until it stayed within the lines.

The worms. At least I know they are there. I can dig into my gut and release the maggots before they eat me from the inside out. No wonder my gut is inflamed.

The taste of worms is so familiar I don't notice.

I'm starting to notice.

And choosing to notice.

And choosing to dig my nails into my depths and releasing the worms that eat my gut alive. And choosing to flax oil fiber fruit my insides until they might choose to heal.

If you fill a room with worms, is it possible to breathe without breathing them in? They crawl into my nostrils and I choke.

I'm okay with the mess but not with the hatred.

None of us chose this exactly. It was given to us.