Every 60 seconds someone dies from an eating disorder
But even with that scary reality I just can’t bring myself to recover
Water fills up my stomach like an ocean,
and my sickly brain just causes so much commotion
my hair just comes falling  out
I lay in bed all day and just pout
People tell me to just eat
Man do I wish it was that easy
When will I ever feel loved?
When the dress fits me like a glove?
My brain tells me that I have to take up less space to matter
But when Is enough enough, Is it when dinner is just an empty platter?
See, I look at others girls of all shapes and sizes and see beauty
But why is it so hard to see that in me?
Why did I have to go through all the things I’ve endured ?
i don’t know but I want to one day be able to say that I conquered.

I'm going through hell,
So why don't I get any hotter?

I wasn't sure at what point
my feelings of
inadequacy and failure
would penetrate the boundaries
of my thoughts and
manifest themselves in a physical way
which scare not only the strangers
that pass me on the street
and see my now skeletal body
but also those I love the most.

The Demons are back again,
Haunting me with darkness,
Painting me with insanity,
Those sick little artists.
It's all my fault,
All the years of failure
And the neglect to cure this disorder,
That controls me.
The sadness consumes me,
The water is getting higher,
I can't breath, I'm drowning
In everything that becomes of me.
My mind bubbles with regret
And burns in pain
For ignoring this illness
That makes me insane.
My heart beats slowly
As it frowns in silence,
My blood rushes around
in heavy violence.
My body shakes
And I'm short on breath.
I'm becoming attacked by this panic
And I become a mess.
It's maniac ways
Every days the same.
It's calm and it's crazy
And I'm always fighting to stay Sane.

I looked dolefuly at my reflection
and once more I made the connection
I fell to the floor
a state of dejection
an ugly *****
addicted to injection
digging into my core
I know the answer is restriction
I swore to myself
next time you will be perfection

Lithium, light boxes, little pills for this and that. I’m sitting here in total fear, is anything gonna work? Pay me this, it costs that much. I was once told happiness is free. How do I satiate the demon inside who wants to **** me. How do I lull him, hold him, suduce him? He never sleeps. The pills don’t feel good anymore, I’ve cut too much and now I’m sore. Starving worked but it’s hard to start. There’s nothing left, I’m torn apart.

I was scared at first.
The voice started
drifting in slowly.
It crept in and dimmed
the shining lights that
kept me bright and shiny.
Such as the morning fog
consumes the mountains
was the voice in my mind.
I was scared at first,
but no longer.
The dark thoughts
are constant and persistent
but no longer worry me.
It is hard to find a light
when I am trapped by
all these shadows.
What scares me now
is not the voice itself
but is the fact that
I have fallen in love with it.

Unable to connect to others, I feel I'm always peering in
With envious eyes, I observe their lives, and wonder when mine will begin
The insidious illness that creeps into my soul, isn't easily diagnosed
It's hard to explain, to a real living being, what it's like to be a ghost
The doctors check my vitals and say "Umm, you look just fine"
If only that blood pressure cuff could read my ******-up mind
All the pills in the world don't seem to help, and instead just make it worse
I wish I could feel, something that's real, besides my mother's curse
Unable to relate to others, I feel I'm always on the outside
So I breathe on the glass and use my bony hand to scribble,
I am alive