I want to write about this, because it still hurts.
Maybe it shouldn’t.
Regardless, it does.

Because I am ready to let this voice go, this evil in my mind,
But then I see her figure, skinny-minny, and I try to
Forget about all the pain and heartache,
And instead remember the control, the discipline,
And how it felt to feel lovable.

I do not look like her,
And I am still grieving the possibility
Of ever looking like her.

But I can’t be tortured anymore.
I can’t keep being the torturer, either.

I see her prance around, delicate and lightweight. .
And talk about how she wouldn’t fit into her high school prom dress,
She’s no longer a size 6,
And it hurts.
Because I am.

It won’t hurt much longer, though.
I am getting stronger, still,
Even when my weakness shines through at the sight
Of her sharp collarbones, her
Boyfriend calling her pretty,
her effortlessly getting on a pair of jeans.

I am getting stronger, and maybe not because I want to,
But because I have to.
If I ever want to be anything other than beautiful,
That is.

“But if I were thinner
I would be beautiful”,
She skips breakfast, lunch, dinner
calls it intermittent fasting.
Looking in the mirror,
she swears she sees a rotund and putrid beast.
“Just one more week...”.
She’s delirious from lack of food
and has delusions of relief
But if she cheats,
she only feels stronger in her deadly beliefs.
Laying in the hospital, her arm as thin
as the tubes that feed her reluctantly
she tells the Nurse
who is forcing her to eat:
“But if I were thinner,
I would be lovely
if I were beautiful,
everyone would love me”
The Nurse says sadly,
“Your weight is only gravity
But beautiful is already what I see
If you don’t have dinner tonight,
you may float above me
and no one will be able to catch you
and that would be ugliest of all”.

Aching, alone in the moonlight
My chastising thoughts burn just as bright.
I drift numb through waves of sorrow,
The desire to be weightless lures me further below.
It's the calm before the storm of hunger
Yet I continue to starve, my stomach protests like thunder.

Fading in and out, I'm drowning no doubt.
Floating above me are skeleton bones and thin torsos
I idolize them, while my self hatred grows.
My lungs fill with salty tears, making me bloated, accomplishing my fears.

I'm ravenous
I don't care
I say, "I'm not hungry, really, I swear!"

Standing naked and ashamed in front of the mirror.
"You look disgusting!" A nasty voice sneers.
Recovery is far, for I still utterly agree.
I'm a horrifying atrocity, don't let anybody see.

As I drift forlorn to the open abyss
I beg, just wanting self worth and bliss.
The violent waves subside,
Making me realize it's okay now if I die
But I'll say it one more time: "I'm fine."

Further into the fog I fade
Self hatred and insecurities clog my brain.
I'll wait for the day the waves wash away the pain
But for now it's my clouded conscious they claim.

I will watch my ways
and keep my tongue from the delights of this world.
I will put a muzzle on my mouth
as long as she dwells within.
Show me, my life's end
and the number of my days.
Each mans life is but a breath
man is a mere phantom as he goes to and fro;
He bustles about, but only in vain.
Your invasion consumes me
You rebuke and discipline me
You **** every last breath out of me.
Slowly trapping me, until i become  no more.
Look away from me, that i may rejoice again
before i depart and am no more.

It only took a few days for you to seep into my mind and reside in the darkest parts.
But once I knew you were there, I didn't try to rid of you.
No, you gave yourself to me and I accepted you with open arms and an empty stomach.

Like a parasite you ****** the life out of me.
You wore me down to where I napped three times a day.
My stomach never satisfied; either empty or stuffed.
My period stopped for five months.
Stomach pains worse than any pain I’ve experienced before.
Living in a constant fear that my stomach acid would burn a hole through my esophagus.

But you didn’t let any of these ailments stop us.
You taught me to embrace them, they needed to happen.
You convinced me to enjoy the pain I inflicted to myself.
Just collateral damage to the ultimate goal of thinness.
You pushed me so far deep inside my head, I was separated from the shell of my body.
I couldn't recognize myself, I deserved to be nobody.
But I didn’t know that then, you told me that was exactly who I was supposed to be, the real me.

And I believed you.

darling, I miss you
in ways I wish I could
portray fully. as they say,
true love is shown through
actions-not words.

I miss your violent sweetness
tearing through my stomach
kindly molding me
into our perfect image.

I crave your airy touch-
on protruding bones,
bulging veins.
and holding my heart
while it flutters.

I will win you back
through splatter on ceramic tile
furious punching of numbers,
sleeping in tremors
and waking in dizzy euphoria.

please, I need you
render me empty
deconstruct my body
to put together anew
once more

You have always told me
"you are nothing without me"

.....

and oh god,
you were right.

Why settle with flaws?
Perfection almost killed me.
I don’t like that path.

in group therapy
they asked me
when was the last time
i can remember loving my body

i thought about it
for a few moments
was it when
i was in bed with a
random man at the bar
or the time
i won over a man i thought i needed
or what about that one time
i finally fit into a size 3 jeans

no no no
it was not any of those

the last time i can remember
loving my body
was the summer i turned 7
it was a hot summer day
my sister and mother
took me on the ferris wheel
and i was petrified

i did not care to be scared
or show that i was scared
i did not care to live freely
but we all know that does not last forever
life takes over
and
bad things happen
and men take advantage of our bodies
thinking they can own anything
even a little girls body

i think through all of this
over and over
before speaking the words
i cannot remember
the last time i loved my body

The love hate relationship with food,
is so strong. It consumes your life. It is on your mind every second of the day. It becomes your only reason for it all. The only source of contentment, but also the source of your fear, your self hatred, you want it so bad but you abstain because you're scared of the guilt and the consequences you will subject yourself too. To earn your right to feel happy. You impulsively exercise to extremes. And your peers will applaud your dying body.  You have to keep the routine because without it  you are terrified of the free time without focus, because the cycle of hunger and hate will set in. Society has convinced you you're not worthy of love unless you are a *******. If my peers knew the state of my mind they'd ridicule me for not being manly. There are moments, everyday, when you spectate a battle of reason and anxiety in your head.
And all the while you're on a timer. Counting down as your heart rate slows, organs strain and cease, friends drift away from your inability to pretend you're ok, and you are left alone and family beg for your sanity, because you inconvenience them. Everyday, ending it all seems the best solution, but you know better than most, how hard you are to ****. You're also a coward. If there is no intervention you will die, slowly, but assuredly you will. You have the final say.