Lately I've been looking for reasons to live. Not because I...plan on committing suicide soon. Because I lost my reason and way. I've walked a path of uncertainty, pain, filth, selfishness. I've belittled myself over countless mistakes, for errors in my genetic coding that makes me who I don't want to be.

   After all the cuts, scratches, burns and scars I think I'm ready to get better. Not through whittled down razorblades but through love and kindness. Like the theory of Nature Vs Nurture, it's not my nature holding me back, it's my lack of nurture. I'm an alcoholic ready to give up his bottle, a gambler whose chips are up. A suicide case who doesn't want his life to start with a person and end...with a rope.

   Lately I've been looking for reasons to live. 59 reasons for why I should live, 23 people who I hold close to my heart. Even if we don't talk, even if it's hard to breathe at night, even when there's no way out, even when I sob and reach out like a drowning man for oxygen I look, so much harder than anyone else for a reason to live.

   I think I just...lost my way. I'm looking for a reason to live...I'm selfish. I'm caring. I'm lost and I'm learning. I'm not a bad person but I'm no saint. I'm trying to do this for me.

My bones ache for a body they don't have. Stomach empty I look in the mirror unsatisfied with what I see. It's a stranger. Intense, pale, fat. Skin should cling to bones like rubber to skin in the water, instead it hangs distastefully to my eyes.

******* in I then breathe out the stale air I force to my lungs. The urges are never weak enough. Food looks so good though I know I cannot indulge in what I see as my sin.

My bones ache for a body they don't have. I ache for a body I don't have. I want to be thin, beautiful. I will never be, not to my eyes. To me my body is just a stranger that I'm forced to be with.