At three or so I would awaken Out of a fragile sleep to the clang of pots and bowls Cabinets, silver spoons and a measuring cup Pancakes fried in a skillet Buckwheat from a box I don’t know how long I lay there Listening And I wondered whom else in the house can hear I was closest to the door that led to you Just one door that separates Were the others in this darkened house staring at the wall or ceiling? Counting? Afraid, just a little. Thinking about the morning when it comes
After your feeding, the kitchen would be cleaned to its former glory Spotless And into the bathroom Right next to my ears You would step softly and close that door behind you Turning on the sink’s faucet And then the shower Taking the laxatives And wait I wait
We all wait in this house for you to finish It goes on and on And then you turn off the water Go back to bed And maybe then I can sleep Again.
The siren. Inviting, Promising. Ensuring happiness. Guaranteeing joy. Not until she traps you do you wish escape. Not from what she promised, but from the pain she brought you. But you've made a home for yourself here. You've gotten comfortable in the habits she's given you. But every time she comes to visit, something in your gut screams at you to escape. No, literally. Your gut. Your stomach. Your intestines. Your entire body becomes exhausted from chasing her promises. Now, you've forgotten who you were before she trapped you. You try and try for what feels like years to escape. And finally you succeed. You've successfully escaped the place you call home. After time and time of being lured back to home, I've come to learn this sirens name. She is what she does to people. To me. Forces me to control what I eat. Makes me second guess myself. Track everything I eat and drink. Make me guilty for eating something she doesn't like. I won't bore you with more boringly grim details, just know, She has sisters. Please, don't make the mistake of trusting their promises.
i stand below the line my ribs stand out on their own i am not thin enough i need to be only bone
i'll starve the demons out of me purge until they're gone i won't let food touch my lips i've been too big, too long
the voices that i hear they tell me i'm not good enough no one will ever love me because i weigh so ******* much ------ i stood below the line they said i was underweight but all i saw was fat and all i felt was hate
i cried the demons out of me wept until i was numb i didn't let people see the monster that i had become
the voices that i used to hear told me i had to go that if i wanted freedom my blood would have to flow.
I want to stop eating. I want to stop thinking. I want to stand in the snow and let my body freeze until I've burned off every last calorie I want to run until I puke. Then run more. Until the moment comes that I black out Until that empty moment of empty relief comes to me even if it's only a moment. I just want to be free.
Because I'm living in a personal **** most days lately I don't even know myself I can't look in the mirror without disgust I freaking hate my stinking guts.
I've never hated it so much that I'd rather stay inside. I've never been so ashamed that all I wanted to do is hide.