Life is a miracle
Life is sweet.
Keep it long.
Keep it neat.

Life is magic,
So I write this report.
Life is special.
Please don't cut it short.

You're a lucky penny
In a land full of rust,
A shining sea of glitter
Foaming with iridescence

You're a present to my life
A gift that keeps on giving-
Sometimes good,
Sometimes terrible.

"It's the thought that counts..."
Well I can't think a coherent thought
When your name crosses my mind.

110
The cursed number
110
In bone and blubber
110
The taste inescapable
110
My thoughts are nonsensical
110
Shrink it further
110
To be skinny I'd ******
110
The burden of weight
110
All myself I hate.

You are always there for me.
You lift me up whene'er I need.
Your kindness spreads through my bones,
Reaching in and peeling back the facade.
Within your loving grasp, I'm calm.

Your strong arms hold me fast.
Truly I am free at last,
Holding on until my last breath
To you, my life support, my friend.
The warm red glow of peaceful balm.

Everybody needs somebody like you...

Η ζωή είναι δύσκολη...
Γιατί να μην την τελειώσω;
Αυτό φαίνεται πιο εύκολο
Δεν είναι;

Και πάλι, είμαι στα πρόθυρα του θανάτου
Δεν είναι περίεργο πώς τελειώνει πάντα έτσι;

I'm nothing more than numbers on a scale,
Nothing less than a whale,
To your beauty I pale
In comparison, I fail.

I'm not as pretty
As the models on TV,
As the Instagram fashion pieces,
The ragdolls with features
So close to human
They feel almost real.

I'm loose inside my skin,
This cage of flesh and bone,
This prison of insanity
And harmful repetitions.

The gore I put myself through
Every day to stay thin
And to one day become pretty.
It all goes to waste
In a flaming dumpster of shame.

Starving myself daily,
Refusing any sustenance,
"I'm not hungry," I declare proudly,
Maybe one day it'll mean something.

My insides are drowning
In the litres of water and tea
I consume to desperately avoid
Gaining any extra poundage.

After enough time, It's over,
I end up ravenously searching,
Rummaging through the house
For every remaining scrap of food
Because I'm STARVING.

I eat thousands of calories
In only a few minutes,
Struggling to keep it down in time
To reach the bathroom to purge.

Hurled pathetically over the bowl
Viciously throwing up every morsel
Of food I consumed
In efforts to keep from gaining.

Stinging tears well in my eyes,
Seas stream down my face.
I choke on my own half-digested food,
Swimming in overconcentrated bile.

When I stand, I nearly faint.
I pass out upon walking.
I just want to be pretty,
Is that so much to ask?

I'm not good enough for myself,
Or anybody else for that matter.
I don't think a soul in the world
Could bear to stand with me.

I'm all alone.

The silence is deafening...
I try to scream to drown it,
But it just seems to amplify
The situation's dire hopelessness.

I'm falling in a hole of my own creation,
Slipping further down the *****,
Hiding from myself
In every camera, mirror, and pool.

I hate myself more than anything else,
And I want to be nothing.
I desperately wish to be a cage
Made entirely of bone,

An example to the ones
Who dare enter the same path as me,
The ones who hate themselves,
The friends of Ana.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
The little watch shouts.
He sits inside my pocket
And awaits me drawing him out.

Tic, tic, tic
It's time for me to rest.
Society and anxiety
Give me too much stress.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
His voice puts me to sleep.
I love his perfect rhythms-
The perfect time he keeps.

Tic, tic, tic
The second I put him away,
The vicious tics come back
I wish they wouldn't stay.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
Directly into my ear.
The only way to stay 'normal'
Is through the rhythm I hear.

Tic, tic, tic
Whenever I am stressed,
The painful tics come back
And cannot be suppressed.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
The second-hand marches on.
Enduring all his hardships,
He's rewound every dawn.

Tic, tic, tic
My fists are bruised and aching.
"What a crazy spaz"
Society's gaze is saying.

"Tick, tick, tick,"
My lovely watch proclaims.
I whisper the rhythm back;
The perfection keeps me sane.

- - -

I need my pocket watch beside me.
Though it may not seem I do.
You simply do not understand
The troubles I'm pushing through.

The terrible sounds and motions
Are so very, very draining.
The worry to always suppress,
Wears out by the day's ending.

My watch sits beside me,
Ticking as I write this
(Ticking so I don't have to),
And reading as a witness.