There was a time when I was willing to forgive you,
But that was a long time ago.
That was before I had terrifying horrors of you playing behind my eyelids as I slept.
That was before yelling came to send me into panic attacks.
That was before everything associated with you made me hurt.
That was before you said that I broke our family.
That was before you said you couldn't wait until I was gone.
That was before you said I liked wanting to die.
That was before you made me sob so hard my lungs felt like they were going to collapse.
Forgiveness is not an option here.
And for once, I am not sorry.
I will not apologize.
You hurt me.
You continue to.
And even though you say it will never happen again,
It does.
And you deny the pain,
And distrust you have caused.
But I guess that's okay, right?
Because I am a kid,
And you are a grown man.
My age makes my pain invalid,
And my *** makes me weak.
So it's all okay.
But never again,
not for another day,
Will you be my Dad.
You have no right to that name.
It has to be earned,
And you have never done anything but knock your opportunities down.
I will not break myself down to say you can hurt me for one more day,
Because maybe you will change.
Because you will never change,
No matter what you say.
So no,
I'm not sorry to say
That I am not willing to forgive.
That time of forgiveness
Was a long time ago.

I'm trying to get over myself.
I really am.
I don't like being the center,
And my problems make that so.
I don't want everyone always commenting
That I am making no progress,
That I'm not trying,
Because I am.
I am really trying.
You just can't see it, because all of this is an
Inward Battle,
That doesn't just suddenly stop.
No matter how much you want me to,
I can't stop hating myself in a day,
Or a week,
Or a month,
Or even a year.
Because I have been looking at myself
This way,
For a long time now.
It doesn't just stop.
That's not how it works.

I should have my phone taken away from me.
I take pictures of myself with it
All the time,
Just to make myself feel
Worse
About myself,
If that is even possible.
I use the photos like a zoomed in
Mirror.
Something made to specifically
Point out my flaws.
To point out
The scars
The rolls
The bumps
All of the things that are perfectly
Natural.
But I don't want
Natural.
The only thing
Natural
Has done for me
Is make me want to shed
My body
For one entirely different.
And,
In a way,
I am,
Shedding my
Body.
I have changed,
A lot.
I have grown to
Crave
The pain in the pit of my gut.
I have figured out
Every
Single
Way
To make my bones protrude
Further
From beneath my skin.
I have learned to
Control
How much I eat.
I have figured a way to
Toss my food,
Instead of consume it.
Because I would rather
Die
Than consume another
Calorie,
To have another
Pound
On my body.
I have the
Perfect
Amount of
Control
Over myself,
But I am no more
Beautiful.
Everything just
Hurts.
And no,
I can't "Just Eat"
To stop that
Pain.
It doesn't work like
That.
Things are so much more
Complicated.
I wish they weren't.
Maybe,
Just maybe,
If they weren't,
I might love
Myself,
Instead of
Cry
Over a ******
Number
Every morning.

You tell me I am wrong to think the way I do.
God, I wish I could just stop thinking the way I do.
But I can't.
These things are engrained.
The collarbones,
The ribs,
The hipbones.
The things I crave.
All I can think is
"Thin".
All I can tell myself is
"Thin".
But I am not thin.
When I look in the mirror,
I am disgusted.
I pinch at my skin,
And I beat it as punishment,
For being
Imperfect.
And I know that
Flaws are natural,
And nothing about this
Disorder
Is natural.
But that stopped making a difference
A long,
Long,
Time ago.
Natural,
Healthy,
Okay,
Normal,
Average,
Not dying.
None of that matters.
Skinny stopped being
Enough.
Being bones
Is all I ache for.
And I am nowhere near
Bones.
I am nowhere near
Skinny.
I am nowhere near
Thin.
But it's all I want.
And it's what I
Destroy
My body for.
I'm broken,
And nobody can fix me.
I have been like this for years.
God, I wish I didn't have to be
Fat.
If I weren't
Fat,
I wouldn't let my body ache,
And Decay
For my version of
"Perfection."
If I weren't
Fat,
I wouldn't **** myself
Every day.