Self harm might be my very own self defense mechanism .
In the midst of my weakness, I feel the most powerful.
The burning, the aching , the shame .
Just tell him I'll be okay , ill reach my goal and be what he deserves ..

Break down the mirror, and break me down
brains in my hair and teeth at my wrists,
she said fourteen caps of alprazolam gave her all she needed
she needs a new world, a new earth, a new ruler, that's what she needed-
I told you it wasn't meant to be this way, i was meant to be the prettiest
but girls with thickened veins and thickened wrists are destined for the bridge edge
My silver smiler body double told me to cut out the poison in my veins
and guess what I did it I did it I did it again
tell them your name, dysmorphia, tell them all what you think of me -
start the car and run me over, honey.

Anorexia
is the most deadly mental disorder
and maybe that is why
I tell myself I am fat,
maybe the reason I cry
when I look in the mirror
is because there is
110 pounds
too much of me
95 pounds
too much of me
80 pounds
too much of me,
I will not be content
until there is no weight left to lose,
until this skin is turned cold
and falls off my body,
I will be
counting the ribs you can see
on my corpse.
I will make myself smaller
and smaller
and smaller
until there is nothing left
to take away.

The angels gathered
at dusk
when the sky was clear
and the wind was silent.
One was stick thin
with ribs protruding,
piercing the feeble
crumbling skin
and the angel was
starving, with
stomach growling
but the angel
wouldn't eat.
The second angel
had a fake smile
plastered,
so fake that its
mouth (decaying
with acid)
looked grotesque
and the angel
looked tormented
because it had
spent the past hour
on its knees
in a bathroom
emptying its
stomach
but it still thought
its smile was
convincing.
The third angel
had long
thin scars
bleeding red
all over its arms
but it smiled
its brightest smile,
chin up,
eyes bright
(but it secretly screamed
at itself late at night).

And many more
angels came,
all of them transparent,
with skin like
parchment
and eyes hollow,
eye sockets painfully
dug into their skulls,
with blue-purple
half-moons under
eyes losing their spark,
with crumbling,
burning smiles
that stung with
insincerity
and pure
venomous self-hatred,
and the angels dared not
face each other
and cut their own wings
feather by feather
and refused to believe
that they had not fallen.
But they hadn't, truly.
They had simply jumped.

Bulimia is a scary thing.
That is a fact.
She'll cradle and choke you.
But she'll get rid of the fat.

Bulimia is a scary thing.
But this is for sure-
The burning in your throat and mouth
Will not be the only sore.

Bulimia is a scary thing.
Late at night when you're alone
She'll be with you
Kneeling at the porcelain thrown.

Bulimia is a scary thing.
Because very soon
She'll have you dreaming
Of being a thinspo.

I lay in my bead cold and alone
Waiting for the endless pain
To go away.

I lay in my bed cold and alone
For someone to save me
From dying at home.

I lay in my bed cold and alone
I write and I write
but nothing comes out.

I lay in my bed cold and alone
Talking to myself
For there’s no one to talk.

I lay in my bed cold and alone
Waiting for my soul to fill what broke.

I lay in my bed cold and alone
For happiness I seek when I’m alone.

I lay in bed cold and alone
Please save me from drowning
In my own thoughts.

I lay in my bed cold and alone…

The toilet bowl is my mirror
I see the monster I've become 
Every time I lose my food
A countdown has begun

I keep breaking promises
I thought that I would win  
But the numbers on the scale
Are
       too
             high
                     to
                         keep
                                 me
                                       THIN