You say, "I ate so much I want to go anorexic"
You don't know
but I'm anorexic
I'm a loose cannon
Doctor says I'm gonna die any day now
but I can't stop
All I think about is food, and calories,
and how good my hip bones would look if I was only 5 pounds lighter
I have no friends anymore.
But I'm surprised.
Even I hate me.
Even I don't want to hang out with me.
I have no life besides sitting at home thinking about carbs
As dead as I look from the outside I feel more dead inside
As cold as I am all the time, my heart is colder.
So don't you dare say you want this life
Don't say this is desirable
Because its not..


I hate myself.
If only I was skinnier...

I’m just making myself do this
And I’m not sure why
I guess it could be beneficial
Sometimes it is
But sometimes it isn’t
The fleeting nature of the majority of my feelings
Is a constant and nagging concern
I fall in love with most things the way
I do with poetry and women
The fall is violent
Exhilarating
Exhausting
The passion and excitement of the fall
become inseparably intertwined with the reality of my daily experience
Enveloping me
minute by minute
and dominating my thoughts
my actions
I am Neruda
Until I begin to sober up
I continue to drink both in
With the ferocity of an alcoholic
So the source of this sobriety eludes me
Perhaps the beauty of women and the beauty of Poetry are fleeting by nature
Making their brief ecstasy all the more powerful
Perhaps the sudden disinterest reflects
On my character
But, there is no time for these thoughts
Because for now I am in love
With her
And with Poetry
And I want to enjoy the fall

Day turns to night
I can not get to sleep
too many thoughts in my head
I grab  some paper and pen
and try to make a rhyme
how will it read this time
I think that it's not a poem
unless it touches our heart
It's not a poem unless it tears us apart
After what is left of what is written down
if it don't get through to you and me
it's not a poem
If the words don't make a lasting impression
on your memory
I feel that I am writing only for me
If I can not get through to you I feel that
It's not really a poem