Awake, staring into nothingness,
I listen to the terrifying darkness,
With huge eyes, wide open,
Begging...sleep, please, happen.

Insomnia is a terrible thing causing one to become sequestered from reality.

The poster girl of well-thumbed submission,
The American Nurses Association,
A narrow mouthed river in Oregon,
Charles Howard Hinton’s fourth dimension,
A track from Pixies Bossanova,
Antibodies,
Anorexia Nervosa.

She has caught me again.
For good this time
and she's not letting go.

Her skeletal hands are grasped firmly around my neck,
her nightmarish voice rings repeatedly in my head.

Each and every time I disobey her,
the grasp gets a little firmer
and the voice gets a little louder.

She never leaves.

She is slowly but surely killing me,
but without her
I am nothing.

It starts out slowly
At first, you don't even notice it
You're busy, you'll do it later
But as more time passes you eat less and less
You begin making excuses
You ate a lot yesterday
You're fine.
One day, you lose "control."
The hunger gets the best of you.
You eat and eat and eat
Soon after, the tears begin pouring down.
And so you'll sneak to the bathroom,
maybe stick your toothbrush or finger,
down your convulsing throat.
You relieve yourself of the pressure, the guilt,
and the contents of your stomach all at once.
But they begin to notice.
You lose an unusual amount of weight and it all comes falling down.
You hear the words... but your ears refuse to hear..
"..nervosa"
"bulimia"
"anorexia"
Bits and pieces.
But you're fine, right?
Ana is your friend.

Ana speaks to the ones who listen
a fallacy of fictional happiness
a gamekeeper of your life
she secretly kills you
keeping you alive with the hopes that one day you might get want you've always wanted
to be thin
you die
Ana lives
tormenting always
Ana never dies