[ Cataclysmic implications ]

Cataclysmic implications
Unoccured resulting situations
Chase around
within my troubled skull
Now little under a year to the day,
But my body...unchanged,
This room, unchanged.
Just my mind that's different, maybe,
Although dogged
By sickening, infamous memories.

Ten months, twenty four days
So much has changed
I've started afresh,
a new found belief in happiness...
But I can still taste the bitter,
Life-saving spew
Of bile, food, vomit,
Expelling, pre-humous,
The pills from my body.

I can't escape the fact
It's sucking my life away
I'm alive but for a small difference...
I'd be rotting in my grave
Self-loathing, unwilling,
I failed suicide.

I cannot forget this;
I can never tell you,
or else you shall end it
Forcing me to suicide too.
But how can I evade this?
Keep that I'm keeping this from you?
Why does it make me depressed
...That it's almost a year
Since I did not die, but lived.