The growling of my stomach reminds me I'm alive.

Over and over relapse after relapse, when will my body finally collapse?

Not eating for days, is it from the depression or for the control?

The control that I cannot grasp so I try harder and harder
as my heart beat gets softer and softer.

Never will I be thin enough but I can sure try if I can't control my mind, why not the size of my thighs.

Summer twenty-eighteen, five days of no food, five days of stumbling upstairs and stumbling from the hall to my room.

Falling in the shower, black spots in my vision.

Fall of twenty-eighteen, trying to recover, but now I scream in the spring.

In my mind, I yell not to eat hoping to control the storm of insecurities in my head.