i cannot seem to forget the smallness i had become. bruised thighs and sunken eyes were my reality; my skin was devoid of any nutrients, fragile and delicate. i could vanish into nothingness like quicksand.
my days bled into one another, fingers frozen, heart barely beating, lungs hardly breathing. i stared down the barrel of the gun, wished to purge my urges, sat in an endlessly deep pool of misery until drowning was all i could do.
i replaced food with air, consuming empty calories and dug knives into my skin as a personal hobby.
i am an open would that never heals, and i am desperate to move on.
a poem on my eating disorder. i thought i had come far only to relapse within a year. here's to starting over.