Walls.

I watched the smoke fall out of her mouth like words.
She sat across from me on a green grunge chair, her long white fingers withdrawing the cigarrette from her mouth.
I studied the smoke as it lay thick in the air. Paintbrush gray and white slicks
danced across the room and faded as it hit the light.
I gulped down the malt liquor and settled back to light my cigarrette.
The smoke poured from my mouth anxiously, my fingers moving quickly
from my mouth back down to my knee. I inhaled and exhaled nervously, as if the cigarrette was crumbling from my hands and slipping through the cracks in my fingers.
Like everything else.
"Do you think I’ve put on weight?"
His eyes moved from the television screen to me, studying my body and playing with the
piercings in his lower lip.
"Honestly, yes. Don’t dwell on it though, babe." He smiled at me and pulled me down
beside him whilst his eyes shifted back to the screen.
I looked up at the ceiling and felt the weight of my stomach pulling on my heart.
The walls began to move in closer. I needed to scream but I couldn’t breathe.
My hands ran quickly over my stomach, searching for my hip bones.
I ripped scabs off my lips with my teeth, trying to tear myself apart from the outside inwards.
"Whats the matter babe? You’re shaking."
I managed to squeeze out words through heavy breathing and complete anarchy in my head.
"I’m just cold."
He pulled me close to his chest and closed his eyes.
Mine remained open, watching the walls grow closer and closer.

She spoke to me, asking me questions that I had no answer to. I bit my nails, looking up at her and studying the smudged mascara on her eyelids.
She pushed her thumbs under my ribcage and sighed.
"You can do this. You’re strong enough."
I moved from her eyelids and looked right into her eyes.
I don’t want to get better.
I didn’t say it outloud. But I think she heard me anyway.