hope.

I want to die.

I want to cut.

I want to purge every awful thing I’ve eaten.

I want to curl up in a corner and hide from the world.

I want to give up, I want to give in.

I want to just stop.

But I won’t.  I won’t kill myself, or cut, or purge, or hide, or give up, give in, or stop.

I will keep on.

Because I have to.  I have to keep trying.

For the hope that someday, things will be better.