Becoming broken is not a choice;
The slow degeneration
Has no fault or blame
It is when your mind is once more
Rectified; what you do from
There is not the same
When sick and becoming worse
I had no choice, my actions
Were not ever my own
But now sitting in the hospital
Seeing clearly my sad
Condition, I have grown
I can now make a choice
As I teeter on the brink
Of relapse and more madness
I could choose to fight
To walk away and learn not
To be controlled by sadness
It means now the flinging down
Desultory, of what I have craved
And sought for years;
It means closing some doors
Finding out what resides
On the other side of fear
To give up control, weight loss
Strict rules; to give up
On the easy destruction
To learn to breathe, to learn again
To feel and to smile
To fight these inclinations
While sinking I had no choice
While torn, no concept
That this is not what life is
But now in the aftermath
Seeing clear my insanity
I can choose to be more than this;
So I choose to do the opposite
Of what the voices say
I may not deserve food, love
But only according to
The devil resting in my mind
I must turn to the stars above;
To eat, learn to fuel my body
Appreciate its natural
Shape, resilience, form;
To stop harming myself as
Some sick replacement
To emotion; not be a storm
I must learn to settle and sit
With sadness, then hope
I will no longer seek to die;
To face my fears, challenge those
Old rules, and now I pray
I can learn to be alive.