I am often only able to be handled in small doses,
too much of me and you’ll OD,
                       get sick from me.
I come on too rapidly, too brutally to be managed by most,
                      Hardly by any.
I cause a pit to form in the depths of your stomach,
                       you feel queasy.
I am the lump that blocks your air passage,                    
                       you can’t breathe.
You choke on me and the only way to fix it is to spit me out,
                       rid yourself of me.

don’t tell me to keep my head up when you’re the one who forced it underwater.

How could you,
Allow me to think I could trust you, listen to your words.
Make me promise to follow your rules and I would end up okay.
How could you,
Take the small things I looked forward to from me, deny me even an ounce of that happiness.
Slowly destroy my body and my mind all at once.
How could you,
Push my family away from me, take away their trust.
Make them think I am selfish and cruel.
How ******* dare you,
Do this to yourself and refuse to get help.
You’re the creator of this disease and you’ve let it go too far for too long.

I fuel the fire that engulfs me,
pouring every ounce I have into it
I watch my flesh being peeled apart,
All that I hate destroyed before my eyes
It shouldn’t feel so good to watch this body crumble,
But I’ve been wishing it to happen for years now
My loved ones watch in horror from afar,
Yes in horror but never in shock
They have witnessed me slowly striking the match for years,
Only just now did it hit hard enough to flame.

Tired of always getting lost in my thoughts,
and always in thoughts that make me feel lost.

I know everyone says that misery loves company
But so do I.
Misery gives me something to think about,
no matter how terrible it may make me feel.
She keeps my mind occupied
While Making sure I’m never alone.
Misery takes my hand and leads me away from here,  
Sometimes we get lost,
Sometimes on purpose,
I don’t always know the way through my head like she does.
I know befriending misery is what keeps me from moving forward,
But honestly, having someone that feels like a friend is
enough

I am drowning in
an overfilled world.
The ceiling is the max,
there is no reaching for the clouds here.
Sometimes being dealt a bad hand
is enough to bring us down.
I am living proof of someone
whose demons were smarter than their maker.

They ask me,
How do you live like this?
I live like this because I do not choose to,
Because I am a slave to my thoughts that are trying to **** me.
How can you destroy your body?
I can destroy myself because the hatred runs so deep it feels deserved.
I need to self destruct in order to feel okay.
How do you sleep at night?
I don’t sleep at night. I am haunted by my fears and the uncomfortableness in my own body.
How can you hurt those around you?
I do not choose to hurt those around me.
I love them but they no longer see me the same, bridges burned and trust broken.
I live in a prison and I am the creator.
Leave me to build my walls as I’m swallowed whole.

I write for me and I write for her.
I do not write to you or to those whom judge others for their own feelings.
I write to express my heart and it’s sadness,
to expose my brain and it’s madness.
These are words my mouth cannot form,
And my being dare not externalize.
The ink on these pages may be looked upon with disgust and horror,
Or possibly understanding and appreciation.
Please, as you read my words do not ingest them so harshly,
Allow time to let them sink in,
And be taken in the smallest pieces.
These pieces are mine and are of me,
Handle them with the care I deserve.

I am a girl,
Living in a hollowed out shell.
My shell used to be full,
Of love for both myself and others.
I am a girl,
Controlled by a brain so cruel,
My mind used to find the beauty in things,
But now only finds the ugly in me.
I am a girl,
My life used to be worth living but I am no longer convinced,
Conflicted on staying alive while wanting to be dead.
I was a girl.

The words are seeping from my pores tonight,
Overflowing with sorrow, grief, too many things left unheard.

I know my arm is not outstretched and asking for help,
But please do not let me continue to sink until I am no longer visible.

They say the devil don’t judge but I’ve met him and have never felt harsher judgement.

I get lost in my brain more and more often,
Always in the hidden corners with sharp edges.
My mind takes hold and engulfs me,
Tucking me away with it.
Sometimes I scream, other times I comply.
It is not gentle and it is not harsh, it is me.
The only things that will bring me back probably cause even more harm, I think.
Blades bring my mind in focus, sharp and clearer than before.
They cut away what’s overwhelming me even if only for a short while.
Food brings me comfort and a place to land softly, until the guilt sets in of course.
Purging allows me to expel the harsh words and thoughts with force and all at once,
Finding relief until I’m hungry again.
None of these things ever hold and I am once again lost in my mind, losing my mind.
Temporary relief is keeping me sane,
For now.

I was thrown in a hole only armed with a shovel.
They yell and scream at me to find a way out.
What the hell am I supposed to do with the tools I’ve been given other than dig myself even deeper?

Poison girl,
who got in your head,
why are hurting and wishing you were dead.
sickly girl,
why is your head so cruel.
why does it make you hate and follow its rules.
vile girl,
why are you starving yourself.
being thin and dying won’t bring you wealth.
putrid girl,
why don’t you see all that you gave,
you didn’t deserve this pain or such an early grave.

Don’t try to put out my fire,
you have no right.
I know you mean well,
but your feeble buckets won’t save me.

A girl who was familiar with bruises,
shouting and harsh words no longer made her ears ring.
An elementary school girl who learned what it meant when her parents were too drowsy to speak,
borrowing money meant she’d never see it again.
A teenager who knew that her family would not change,
promises were never certain and lies would always be.
A young adult who now continued the abuse on herself,
pain was a constant and always self inflicted.
Can she be blamed for how she was taught to love?
Can you hold her accountable for the ways she learned to protect herself?

Do not blame yourself for her undoing,
You are not at fault for the uneasiness in her brain,
the poison that has seeped into her skull.
You’ve plucked the thorns from her bleeding hands, taken the blades from her skin.
Comforting words have been offered,
Your warm smiles hardly ever returned.
She continues to dwell in a dark place,
Giving you only brief moments of light.
Please do not blame yourself for her undoing,
how can you expect to help someone who does all they can to hide their demons?

you can’t keep chewing me up and spitting me out until you get the flavor you want.

more , more, MORE
I often find myself staring off at nothing, enveloped in my thoughts and searching for something more to distract my mind.
         What happened to her?
You can see the emptiness that has taken residence in my eyes, my being, nevertheless I still hope that life will become more worth living.
         She was always the good child.
Every time I run my hands over my skin I feel the lines that reside there and the blood that seeps from them, knowing there will be more to come.
          She was so smart and loved school.
Most of my thoughts are consumed by food. Keeping it down is almost unbearable, but ridding myself of it helps me to feel a bit more at ease.
          She would never do such a thing.
I often dream of death and how to escape the nightmare that plays out in my brain, thinking there must be something more than all of this.
          How could this happen?

Tell me about the first time you sensed my vulnerability. The first time you knew I could be manipulated by your eyes as easily as by your hands- those ****** fingers. Was it so obvious? Did I appear to be that naive, that in need of guidance? When did you see my willingness, my obligation to please? It was well known by you, well abused by you. But most importantly, when did you stop caring enough to do this to me..