Smells like 5

Another silent night last night, nothing shocks me anymore.

I'm sick of you. I'm sick without you.

I'll be your compass again, point me south like you always do. 

 

I am not thankful for food, food that hides my hip bones, softens the contours of my face, touches my thighs together. I am a pig.

I am not thankful for family or good company, I have neither today. I'm forbidden from seeing my very own cousins. A black market family is not something I am grateful for.

I am not thankful for health, at least when I'm sick I have a reason to feel sorry for myself. I get to see you when I stay home from school.

I am thankful for sound that breaks silence. 

And I quite like Harry Potter too.