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Kit May 18
The hands that are locked inside my body
pull at my ribcage. We'll make you an angel,
they say, but that means
tearing my flesh apart. I beg them –
please, take my brain,
pull it and mould it and set it on fire.
The brain is too precious, they spit,
and I want to die. I want to die
to make myself something else. Something...
palatable. Something that I can chew
and swallow all at once.

Instead, they bite. God, they sink
their seraphim teeth into the flesh
that I call myself. And they digest.

And what of the brain?
Alive, immobile, it waits.
In pain, it waits. Screams.
Begs for release.
But these angels are not from Heaven,
nor do they caress broken bones
once they have devoured.
CAL Feb 24
kitkats and honeybuns

fat pockets and bulging skin

coffee and cream

too much flesh and blood

eating and drinking

too many calories and sugars

wishing i had self control

wondering why i cant stop

food and extras

sugar and spice

cant breathe enough to work it all away

my body will refuse to throw it up

and i dont know how to stop

but i want to
so bad
even if it killed me
i want to stop
because it could make me a pretty boy
feb 24
here is a vent piece from about a month back
Kai Apr 1
my skin is a mask
restricting and choking me
as I try to move
Kai Apr 1
an ever looming measure
up and down everyday
my mood hangs on it
heavy and disgusting
a feeling that hangs over
A scale controls my life...
As I am Standing in front,
Of my full body mirror,
Mind filled with questions,
"Did my pecks get bigger?
I did 100 of each push up,
And maximum pull ups"
"Are my Abs more defined?
I did 90 minutes of;
Holds, planks, Twists, crunches,
I even did 30 minutes of Stretching and Yoga."

I stand there,
Immediately after doing,
All this exercise,
My Demons ask the questions,
Then pull apart my answers.
Not because they can,
Because we all know,
I let them.
But they attended,
The public school of media,
I'm ashamed of how I look.

So I'm checking.

Maybe one day,
I won't feel the need.
Julia Jan 16
my friends told me
i've lost too much weight
is the mirror lying
or are they?
Mims Jan 6
I don’t know if I’m really losing weight
Or if my self image has just become
Even more distorted
Collarbones
Ribs
More pronounced
Stick out  
Thighs
Arms
Shrink
But is it all in my head?
Do I just perceive myself as smaller?
trying so hard
Not to take up space
I could live under my bedroom floorboards
And still have room
For you?
My eating has felt normal but how could I remember
I don’t sleep
Did I even eat more than 1 meal today?
Yes.
Or was that yesterday?
quiet in body
never felt
connection in reflection
never seen
harmony in surface and mind
never realized.

what is real? I cannot see, neither feel.
what I see, likewise feel —is not real?

back against the wall, cracked.

a chorus of blood
chants incessantly under skin
in the tunnels of my wrists
a buzzing
I am encased in this unsound flesh of sin, crawling
fingers of insanity
all I can do is destroy (myself)
the ritualistic obsession
the control seduction
compulsively constructing my own deconstruction
a dance —just enough to relive pain in living
sweating and dizzy in exhaustible effort I am, lost
in the hunt
to conquer my body like a continent
assimilation with a world where  
all flesh is but wax and tactless camouflage  
painted cheeks fall like petals  
hair like wheat severs from heads
and bones rust like guns that drain away blood—
no-win.

my brain collapses inwards.

I strive towards completion but in reaching it find
I am already dead.
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