the shutters are kept a jar closed this morning. i will only see out of one eye. my own blue light vibrates, hollows out my greying stomach leaving space to think - - you should’ve reached out but i can’t get my hand past the edge of my bed, so i use my hands instead to harden my molten tongue and soften my clenched cheeks. a sour gap between chin - - belly. rolling a mushy blade of grass between my fingers - - stretching a water bottle - - kicking the end of my bed - - do you feel empty? she said. I said  - - like unthreaded needles? like tupperwear unfilled?  - - is that empty? you felt like silk disrupted with the crease on your forces and i tried to collect the other day but you weren’t even there it was some other guy i only see you when i buy bags of must i miss the hugs you gave from ear to floor but now you’re cheating on me with yourself and now i’m a zippo without fluid and you’re the first *** packet without a number and without a warning and i'm without - -

Look at yourself

Squeeze any fat you have

A pinch

A handful

How much is too much?

What really is fat or skinny?

Victoria's Secret "Love My Body" campaign shows seven svelte models while Dove's "Real Beauty campaign features an array of 'Real Women' with curves in all the right places 

Both campaigns exclude most body types and show major problems with society

One shows plus sized is okay is only okay if you're plus in the right places

The other proves skinny is king

These are the standards we set for little ones to abide by

With a small bust plus wasn't an option

So I turned skeletons into goddesses 

Prayed the would teach me how not to need

Worshiped hipbones over pizza

A tiny waist over lunch

Anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any mental illness

Yet todays media forms computers in the minds of children to count calories as thought food were merely numbers

I learned how to purge from a pro Ana website when I was nine

Stuck a toothbrush down my throat and forced up dinner

Turned to laxatives at 12

Learned ill was okay if skinny was the side effect

Today I look at myself

Squeeze any fat I have

A handful

A pinch

How much is too much

I thought I was smart enough to know that five m&m’s isn’t a meal

"Everyone wants to be a little anorexic" she says

"You know, like, in a glamorous way, like fashion friendly anorexic"

I bite my cheek and nod, pretend to agree

All I can think of is waking up to stars dancing on the ceiling

Pale skin with bruises of unknown origins

And battered feet on and off the scale

Almonds in Ziploc baggies

Bite marks on fingers

Hair down the drain

Measuring crunches by the marks they leave on your spine

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough water to turn organs into boats

Eating an apple with a fork and knife

Desperate hands grasping for ribs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Standing and the world going dark

Coughing around shots of apple cider vinegar

Carrying an emergency rice cake for weak spells

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough green tea to drown organs

Sugar free gum to mask the smell of decaying organs

Whatever nail polish covers yellow and purple

And battered feet on and off the scale

How many calories are in toothpaste

Thinspo blogs

Pillows squeezed between thighs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Is today the day my heart gives out

Waking every day in a new body

Fingers clasped around wrists

And battered feet on and off the scale

Notebooks filled with numbers

Purple crescents under eyes

Fingers clasped around forearms

And battered feet on and off the scale

Elbows knocking into hipbones

Being scared of your own reflection

Lies to get out of dinner

And battered feet on and off the scale

The stench of *****

Oxygen that tastes of Splenda

Fingers clasped around biceps

And bleeding feet on and off the scale

 

If this is your idea of glamour

Then you can have it

The lunch money you gave me was never spent on lunch,
It was spent on emptying myself more.

-laxatives

I thought they should see that my eyes are blue
And bloodshot and filled with pain.
For although I laugh and play a role,
My shadows, they hide but remain.


I thought they should see that my lips, they lie,
And say that I'm always ok.
For although I smile and say I'm fine,
I'm slowly fading away.


I thought they should see that my bones show through,
That I fixate and try not to gain.
For although I joke, I count and run.
It's driving me slowly insane.


I thought they should hear my cry for help,
See an illness I refuse to claim,
But they don't look; is it hidden that well?

I hope I'm too good at this game.

"it's so selfish of you to want more when others have so much less"
i'm sorry that i want a family who cares
i apologise for needing them to get on
it seems stupid of me to want them to accept my sexuality
crazy to even think i deserve someone
who believes my mental health is a real problem
i can't believe that i would ever ask not to be forced into a religion
a mindset i don't agree with
"still, it could be worse
you could be living in a war zone
starving to death
with no family at all"
what you don't know is that i'm constantly at war with myself
that my bulimia can't be controlled
that the family i have wish that i would disappear and rid them of their problems
don't pretend to understand
i already have too many people that fit into that category

the veil between
this life and the next
has gotten
thinner

my body is
a graveyard,
i am digging
for bones

i reach into
the back of
my throat,
trying to find
a voice somewhere
instead
i pull out the food
from my stomach,
because full
feels *****

i don't crave anything.

i crave emptiness,
vacancy

blissful silence in a world
that's so cold to me.

I hope my body forgives me
For what I’ve put it through
I hope one day I see
The truths I heard from you

I promise I will try
Not to starve myself as often
But there will be hiccups and lies
As I chew and chew to soften

The food will make me sick
Though I may not mean physical
But still they call me “thick”
Thin is paradisiacal

I’m sorry some days I can’t keep down my food
Or I can’t even look at the label on that junk
I know it would taste good
But it would just add to me another flabby chunk

The number doesn’t matter
It’s arbitrary really
I’m stuck like the mad hatter
And the mirror floats about freely

Yes I’m scared to death
But the death is so enticing
I push and pull each breath
But the sharp oxygen is slicing

Tired and alone
I wander aimlessly
With no place to call home
I can’t say I do so blamelessly

It’s my fault I’m so messed up
But I want that skin and bones
I rinse my mouth with a cup
After throwing up dark tones

I hope my body forgives me
For hurting it so greatly
It’s not who I want to be
But I’ve gotten much worse lately