taking stock

i have a lot of hopes in my belly, mushroom dirt on my hands, and work at ten am.
i have scars that show where i've been, who i've been, and how i learned to hate.
i have a full size bed that never fails to feel and be empty.
i have words living in my throat that will never pass my lips.
i have one hundred and eight pounds and they'll never be enough.
i have a new life waiting for me in a city i've been to once.
and i'm scared that once i'm there... nothing will stop hurting.