If you ask my friends what I've become
They'll start singing song lyrics
"Tried to find you t the bottom of a bottle, laying down on the bathroom floor"
"You're gone and she's gotta stay high, all the time, to keep you off her mind"
And by God they wouldn't be wrong.
I've taken up these habits and made them my own
Creating my own personal bubble that's headed straight for hell
I'm not saying what I've become is all your fault
But you certainly contributed to my status.
My chain smoking, my drug use, my increased alcohol consumption
My need to drive dangerously fast, stepping into traffic, my laying on blacktops
To everyone I know, it's as if I'm certainly flirting with Death
And I guess its true
And I'm not taking 100% of the blame
Some of it is on you.

**** am I scared to lose you
Not to physically lose you
But scared of the mental feeling of when I do

I'm so scared to be the past mistake of yours
The mess up of a best friend
The one you talk about behind my back when it's all over

Because I'll be here
crying my eyes out for months
Wanting to hold what we had again

last night I looked into your eyes and blessed myself for these moments

Cause Right now we have a future to fulfill
But these plans have been made before, crushed before, not with you but what a similar scenario
..I have a feeling you'll be the same.

They say jealousys the ugliest trait,but,
I can't help but feel the disgusting ping         of envy when your smiling at her .

My throat clogs up with thirst for your attention .It  angers me when you let there nasty slutty hands go up and down your biceps .

When they call you crazy red is all I see .

Don't you see what you do to me ?

Don’t you ******* dare
to romanticize me
Don’t act like my ribs poking through my skin
And wrists so frail I’m half-certain they’ll snap too
is beautiful
Because that’s exactly what you’re doing
through your glossy magazine pages
and water-and-kale only lunches
Making it seem glamorous
that I lay dying slowly at my own hands
Don’t paint over my
sallow complexion
And hair falling out in thick strands
As I tried to put up a ponytail
Here’s my thigh gap
(it’s writing my obituary)
but isn’t it just #goals
Don’t make me
the reason a twelve year old girl
is squeezing her tummy
I did not fall for that trap
But I’m in the same pit anyway
I am not a costume
Not the “**** anorexic”
Don’t tell me to learn to take a joke
Because it isn’t a joke
to make my best friend sick with worry
Because the pounds keep peeling off
I’ve felt sinking in my (empty) stomach
when friends ask me “how do you keep so thin?”
in pale green tones of envy
when their bodies are so full of life
and mine is withering
and I’m crying over a stupid ******* bowl of soup
that the same girl (but a different one)
would have drank in two minutes
soaking in the warmth in a full tummy
But that I heated in the microwave
three, four times,
forcing down spoonful by spoonful
just to have something in my stomach.
I just want to eat pancakes that don’t taste like dust
but all my meals are tainted with self hatred
and how ******* dare you
teach them that hatred
like it’s *pretty?