you're still losing weight. i didn't know it was possible to shed the pounds this quickly.
the less you eat, the more you age. in three months, you'll have aged six years. i can't recognize you anymore. it's like parts of your soul have gone missing.

your body is what holds your mind. it holds your soul. it held me.
i know it sounds so selfish, but i want you go be who you were before.
not only were you healthy, but you were happy.
and warm. so warm.

i hope you gain back your warmth. i hope you find the pieces of your soul that have corroded in the stomach acid your force yourself to choke up. i hope your serotonin levels raise to a normal number. i hope that the color comes back to your cheeks.
i hope that you become something other than a walking corpse.

if you don't, i won't lecture you again, but i won't be able to come back. it's too hard seeing you like this. i hope you understand.
but please know that i will always love you and i will always be on your side. i believe you can do it. call me when it happens.

I can't tell why
I'm crying
anymore

Where are my tears coming from?
Are they coaxed out by the fingers down my throat, coming up with the acids in my stomach?
Or are they because of the pain leading me to do this to myself?

Blurring things together,
Making my reflection as distorted
and fat
and bloated
as I am in my mind

I can feel the flesh settled on my bones.
The fat waiting there,
wishing I could skim it off with a knife
I know it must be as soft
as butter

why am I doing this
why am I crying
why am I killing myself from the inside

I can't tell why
I'm dying
anymore

There is so much more to this than you know
There is more to anorexia than starving
There is more to depression than sadness
There is more to anxiety than stress
There is more to bulimia than purging
There is more to bipolar disorder than mood changes
There is more to a mental illness than one thing
A mental illness effects every part of someones life
As well as everyone you love
It's an illness and it hurts
But a mental illness can never be cured
But you can help your loved one with it
But first you have to know what you're helping
Anorexia is a disorder characterized by a desire to lose weight by refusing to eat
Depression is a disorder characterized by persistently depressed mood or loss of interest in activities
Anxiety is a disorder characterized by feelings of worry, anxiety, or fear
Bulimia is a disorder marked by binging, followed by methods to avoid weight gain
Bipolar disorder is associated with episodes of mood swings ranging from depressive lows to manic highs
You need to know about this because people have this
And more awareness needs to be made
Because mental illness effects everyone

Safety in bones
splintery and barbed,
cutting away the fear of flesh
as Persephone sleeps eternally.

Knees ache and bruise during restless slumber,
one on top of the other,
from running this eternal marathon
of illusive perfection.

Recklessly chasing rainbows
conceived out of the
blind imagination of the masses.
Hunger pains mistaken for redemption,
skeletons misconstrued as a life
well lived.

Freedom and courage are found
in deadly comments from innocent mouths:
“Are you eating enough?”
“You are so skinny!”
“Are you sick?”

Yes.

I am sick.

A slow, tedious sickness of my soul.
Not wanting to live with the flesh
of my past,
not knowing how to maneuver the
burdensome flesh
of my present,
while obsessively worrying over the flesh
of my future.

As I slowly **** the only self I know,
(or don’t know),
and replace her with a mask of self possession,
I unearth an exquisite relief from the dread of
never being loved because I am
too much.

In my twisted perception,
that is true death.
This is only dying….

Don't you ever eat?

Of course I do!*

Lies.
The hunger swirls in my stomach like pride.
I am strong. I am in control. I will be skinny.

But this isn't any ordinary wish,
A little voice in my head is telling me that
My bones should be my entirety.

Thinner thighs, arms, stomach. I will fade
Away till I am made of air; even then
It won't be satisfied.

But now I'm in too deep. I think I'm in
Control but I've lost it, and now I fear my mind
Is fading too.

Don't help me. Please.
Some people where born to disappear.

Why am I me? I sometimes ask myself.

Why am I not somebody else?

I could have been anyone, anywhere.

So why am I me, why am I here?

I am who I am, but why?

Will I be someone else after I die?

Why do I look the way I do?

Why am I me and not you?

I am me, but why am I this way?

How come I am alive today?

From all the people I could be

Why am I exactly me?

“your body is so beautiful,” he whispers to me, 2:30 am parked in my driveway, breath heating up the windows, hands tracing patterns on my skin

your body is so beautiful. this is a body that has stepped on the scale eight times a day, brain noting every slight change in the number that blinks back. your body is so beautiful. this body has cried from hunger pains, has sat on ***** bathroom floors with ******* pressed inside my throat, praying for strength i didn't have

your body is so beautiful. a body that has spent countless hours in front of the mirror, picked apart and scrutinized from every angle; a body that’s been stuffed and starved, emptied and filled, hated and cursed – this is it, this is the body he means

i’ve known boys who have used words as nothing more than keys to unlock doors inside me, who have strung together letters and sounds as nothing more than a means to achieve an end. i’ve known boys who have made promises never intended to be kept, whispered words in parking lots and quiet cars and city streets that have never amounted to what they implied

“your body is so beautiful,” he whispers to me, and against all odds, he means it. and even if he doesn’t, to like this body when i’m with him is enough, to feel at home in this skin is enough

and to hold his hand in mine is enough,
and to see him smile at me from across the room is enough