My fingers brush lightly across the smooth keys, trying to find my way around these jumbled letters. My mind wonders freely with no restrains, allowing every thought to devour me, slowly ripping into their lifeless prey; savoring each bite until there lay a stack of bones.

The whistle pierces my cold ears beyond belief, breaking through the field of wheat, and past the garden of falling blue roses. It meets my face, an unnerving gust activating chills down my back, separating each hair on my head, and eventually leaving them twined as the stars surround me in a whirlwind.

My feet begin to rise from the dusted old black and white ground, into an abyss of dark, mysterious void. Puzzle pieces lost, frantically trying to find their place as they scramble somewhere in the ruins of what’s left.

“Mommy,” she calls, “Mommy?” The cringing cry of a small child realizing the lonesome truth of what is causes the cold object in my chest to burst into life and my legs to move at the speed of light.

“Hello?” my voice strains, only leaving an abundance of echo in this meaningless storm. “Who’s there?”

In a moment of sorrow, I feel a small and fragile hand slowly wrap around mine, cold and ever-so gentle her grasp. This tiny figure standing just a couple feet off the ground looks up at me endearingly, edging me on into something unknown. Her eyes, which sparkled with virtue and purity, widens as terror consumed every last morsel of her being.

My hand dropped in weightless gravity as she loosened her grasp and stepped back into the shadows, her silhouette gradually demolishing. I peered in her direction before becoming engulfed in such obscurity; the sound of a rock against payment brought my attention to a darting object running toward the vast woods.

“Wait! What’s your name? I beg of you, wait!” I begin to chase her through sharp trees and branches, feeling the sting of pain creep up on me.

“Please. Don’t.” Her words linger through the air.

The fog distorts my vision; I see a vacant old house when the trees fade from our path, in the midst of darkened clouds the little girl appears. Her thin delicate arm spreads out, pointing her index finger.

My eyes meet her gaze and I see it – drawing closer to us… the red balloon.

With clenched fists, my grasp thrashes the golden seraph blade against these stubborn barriers, as I frantically try to find my away around this world of surreal stability. My gaze compulsorily follows the shimmering residue, splatters floating upon these void waters, reminding me of fallen angles twinkling in the darkness.

Let these walls collapse with unshakable power, let them rattle me to my senses and draw me in. Leave me in my tears, to mourn in wretched hatred, allow me to slowly drown and cease my life as my last breath escapes from my steel blue lips.

Rid me of responsibility and guilt, and set a light for me as guidance. Shine bright in the storms, and embrace me as a warm blanket in the lonesome cold I must bear. For I have no home, and no place but the rabbit hole I absconded from.

With pedals of perished flowers, I can paint a sunny day, only to destroy the lingering hope by gently erasing each and every last leftover detail of glee. Haven’t you noticed me wandering into the nightfall? It surrounds me, slowly devouring who I am, and drawing my comatose form deeper into this pit.

I’ve learned to embrace the disappointments of this ****** domain just long enough to convince myself there’s a purpose to continue. I wipe the streaming tears off my face, and can’t help but to mock my pathetic sentiments.

I’m the girl with the loudest laugh in the crowd, who warms the bodies of those who surround with happiness; the girl who puts on a smile and lights up the room, the girl who is there for everyone in their times of lonesome tears and times of trouble.

Within my laughs are cries of pain; among my lips is a dreadful control, constantly attempting to stop the quivering muscles; inside the bright room, the shadows wrap around me in their soothing embrace, drawing me into their abyss yet again; I’m the girl who wants to be comforted, calmed, and loved.

Notice me, and what I entail. Listen to my words, and try to understand their meaning. Look into my eyes and hear their quiet whispers as they spill out the secrets of sable struggles, a seemly sacrificed soul, and a sensibly sobered sanity.

This illness crawls through my brain, embedding the virus deeper into me, and stripping away all remembrances of my wholesome well-being. My body shivers and shutters despite the piles of blankets on top of me, or the two jackets upon my back. This physical cold is nothing compared to the grim cold running through my veins. I’m dawned with illness as my muscles shake and strain from the trifling weight of my own sorrow.

With each brush stroke, more hair comes out. The dark, twined mane falls on the floor of my bathroom tub, haunting me with judgment. My nails are peeled, the bags under my eyes darkened, the shine from my hair gone; all to feel normal. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, why am I doing this to myself?

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eating disorders, bulimia, depression, lost, lonely, depressed, struggles, pain, coping, mia, ana, life