Nightly ritual

Like a blank canvas,
My pale thighs call out to me.

They say paint us like you use to,
Let the blood flow into patterns.

Once I start I know it will be hard to stop,
I must change my train of thought.

So I turn to food instead,
The sultry sugar feast will not cease to comfort me.

The empty wrappers and cartons surround me,
I panic and run away.

I force the illegal goods out of my system,
I don't want them anymore.

I begin to cry and shake,
Who will want me after all this.

I walk through the well light dorm hall,
Trying not to be seen or heard.

Crawling into bed I hope my roommate doesn't stir,
I hide under the covers knowing... unfortunately tomorrow will come.