Ten thoughts to ten more,
One leads to another,

Ten thoughts to a hundred more,
I wage this anxious war,

One falls for a thousand to rise,
Hundreds break rank and spawn ten thousand more,

Ten thoughts to ten more.

~Robert van Lingen

My thoughts are my enemies
My foes are my own
How can I fight these battles?
How can I win this war?

Enjoy the
silence
settling around your
ears;
savor
the taste of air
while
the moment lasts.

I didn't think things would turn out this way.
One day, I decided to cut out sweets.
A simple idea turned sour,
Running away from my problems gave me power
And I did it.
Five kilometres every day,
Followed by constant calorie counting.
The numbers were running through my head,
Until I struggled to get out of bed.
I stood up too fast,
And my world started spinning round and round
Until I hit the cold, hard ground.
The feeling of lightness became euphoric.
Challenging the scales,
Determined not to fail;
It was a wrong kind of rush to have.
The voices wouldn't leave.
Telling me all kinds of bad things like a high-school bully on repeat.
I started lying about what I had eaten to please my family.
Exercising like a deranged athlete.
Hopping around in my room without anyone knowing.
Starving myself to feel complete.
I was paper thin with a faint heart-beat.

i looked at my hands closely,
pinching the skin covering bone and calling it fat.
looking in the mirror for over half an hour after i shower makes me want to disappear in my bed sheets again.
i stared at my open refrigerator only to pour myself a cup of lemon water,
calling my eating habits a "cleanse".
i put my hands up in defense every time my friends tried to feed me and endlessly offer me their food.

i don't want it.
i don't know what my goal is.
i want to feel okay in this skin.

i want my mom to take back every comment.
i want my little sister to think before she speaks when she's angry at me.
i want brendon, my first grade crush, to take back what he said to my face in second grade.
cause you see,
i remember it all.

i remember my mother calling me fat like it was a bad thing when my first grade thighs couldn't fit into my hannah montana jeans.

i remember brendon telling me he liked me until i started to get fat.

i remember every time my little sister has told me i have no friends and that everyone leaves me because i'm fat.

I'll go bottled blonde,
I'll be, again, fragile and skinny.
In plastic surgeries
I want to waste every penny.
I wear makeup
until my skin's all messed up.
I took thousands of pills
until my stomach said stop.
I work out until fatigue,
I write down every meal.
When you say I look better
it gives me self esteem.
But fear strikes evey time
that I get closer to the scale.
It scares me that instead of a number
it'll show the word whale.
I desire to be
the prettiest in the land.
I long to have
the perfect golden tan.
Delicate flower
for everyone to stare.
The magnetic one
that has nothing to repair.
I want to look radiant,
I want to look like a star.
My idea of the perfect weight
will make me take it too far.
But I don't really mind
about my health nor my spirit,
as long as I'm adored,
as long as I have a merit.
They only see you if you're pretty,
they ignore all the wrong;
You may be unstable
but you're worthy of a song.
And I'm not even concerned,
not like someone will notice.
No one did the last time
but anyway I'll tell you this:
I don't care if you find out
all the things that I conceal.
You can talk all you want,
I have nerves of steel.