It's getting bad again.
Like.. Really bad.

I wanna be skinny.
Though i know that i am already, but i still have that belly fat.

I wanna go to extremes.
I know i'm attention seeking.
But we all have our small ****** stuff.

I don't wanna get better.
I donmt want to recover.
I want attention.

I think you could compare my situation to a wound.

At first it's a papercut.
Doesn't look like much.
But stings as hell.
Everyone knows that, but no one admits.

Then it turns into a cut.
Still doesn't look like much.
Stings less, but hurts more.
But it doesn't mean much it's just a cut.

And after a while it'll be a fleshwound.
Trips to the ER to get it fixed.
Everyone knowing and asking about it.
Everyone being concerned.

Then it'll get fixes and heal slowly.
But sometimes you rip it back open.
But no one notices that after a while.
You don't want them to know.

This is one of the wounds that'll never heal, there will always be a scab to pick at when you're sad.
You keep ripping it open.

But at one point you learn how to
Protect it, it'll just take a while
And It'll be hard.
But there will still be a wound.

Why is it that when you're sick enough.
Recovery feels like the sickness and the relapses feel like recovery?

I was with my boyfriend today.
When i started crying randomly he got confused and tried to comfort me..
But he couldn't
Cause i can'ttell him what's wrong..
He'd just be dissappointed that i feel worse again and that i lost 3 kg in a week.

I can't dissappoint him like that..

I admit it..
I'm an attention *****.

I starve myself, even though i know how skinny i am, even though i know 100 lbs is not a lot.

I starve myself so people will notice me.
Talk about me.
Feel bad for calling me all that rude stuff.

For the
"I want her body"
For the
"Did you lose weight"
For the
People who will start caring.

So people will talk behind my back about how i never eat.

But also to have legs to die for, and a waist to love.
To be perfect.

When a boy tells you
he loves you,
Nothing tells you it's a lie.
No alarms go off,
No one warns you.
No one tells you
that all he will do
is hurt you and demand
you say
you love him too.
And it's too late to go back.

I know this is a place for poems, but I believe the 22nd will be my last day on here for awhile..