Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD)

I'm not sure if he holds you now
the same way he held me.
He used to whisper in my ear
that I wasn't gorgeous,
that I was unworthy.

When I walked to school, his breath
stayed hovering on my lips and was
palpable in every conversation.
He caressed my cheeks when I
would cross the street, but

he left me.
It's not that we fought. It's just that
I learned that I could walk away from him.
The last time I saw you, I could've sworn
you had his handprints around your wrists.

They judged you from afar, but I,
I know who you're with. I know the pain of
not knowing what you're looking at in
the mirror when he's standing behind you,
calipers in hand. You can leave him, you know?

He's less than a man.