What is this i feel?
                            A sense to speak,
             A need to say something.
                                                     Yet the words,
      They fail me.
                  Yet the feelings,
                                     They go away.
                                                   I sit in words i cannot say aloud,
In the void of nothing.
          I feel nothing.

I.
                                                    ­       Am nothing.

                Mirrors are bullies,
                           Fathers are abusers,
Toilets are comforters,
                                                     ­    Yet I still feel nothing.
         Yet I cannot find the words…
                        to express the nothing I feel.
Why?
                                                      ­     Why do I hurt?

               No one understands,
                                     I don't understand.
    I am an empty well.

         Why do I continue to swallow pills to make me sick?
                              He tells me I am beautiful…

                              She tells me I am not fat.

   How come I roll?
                                                          How come I don't fit in like they do?

                                                  Why do continue to write him letters?

                           How come he hasn't showed up in seven years?

    How come no matter how many times I tell him

                                                            ­                      I forgive his abuse
                I still get angry
                                               And want to die?
  Why do I want
                 What everyone seems to be so afraid of?
                                                             ­         Death
So sweet
                                       Asleep forever.
                                                                ­  In a place where I don't have to
                Feel
                                            The
Nothing
                                                                ­ That
                         I am.

Rotting flesh bathes under the sun's unrelenting waves

Our prey has felt the reapers touch
repossessing its soul
so we may harvest the remains

The scents invade our nostrils
luring us into a state of blissful hunger

We dive
We feast
We leave none to waste

Lying on the floor
Staring at the ceiling

I am encompassed with a horrid feeling.

The track in my head
Is stuck on replay

You're ugly
You're fat

How'd you let yourself get this way?

I am aware it's not true
But it still makes me blue

I try so hard to stay on track
But sometimes motivation is what I lack

At these moments
I hate how I appear
I despise myself
I despise the mirror

I despise the perfectionism deep inside
That caused this malady, this deep divide

That took over my mind

....

Lying on the floor
Staring at the ceiling

I realize I have to learn to cope with this feeling

Despite what my mind continues to say
Restriction isn't the answer
Acceptance is the way

Body dysmorphia
Will not rule me
Nor the eating disorder
I want to be free.

A slab a meat
Three spoonfuls of rice
A pile of beans
Yeah that sounds alright
A healthy meal
Upon my plate
That was the last time
I truly ate
After that meal
I looked in the mirror
And on that day
It couldn’t be clearer
I wanted to be skinny
I wanted to be thin
And this is when
My anorexia journey begins
The next day
At the table
I said I wasn’t hungry
My mom said you have to eat
Or your gonna be weak
And my joke wasn’t funny
But what she didn’t understand
Was that it wasn’t a joke
My stomach is rumbling
But my mind says nope
And I’m not trying
To grab for the rope
Just one bite
Seems too much
Maybe a sip of water
Will be enough
I don’t want to be fat
I want to be pretty
And the only way I can do that
Is to be skinny

I used to take baths every few hours
Just so time would pass through my fingers like water
Uncontainable like the power my brain held over what remained of me
Fragile has my back hit the bottom
A thin layer of flesh couldn't protect
All I could fathom was metal against bone
Not the comfort I'd once know
But still the warmest I'd been since I'd taken off my clothes
The slightest cold found easy passage to my bones
Wasting time waiting for my body clock to run down
So I could taste the sweet taste of what my body needed
what I forcefully took away from myself
Punishment was all i gifted
Has it hit twelve
For some reason I believed it was fine to eat again
But I could never compete with the two thousand needed to maintain or a score greater to gain.

I am under the microscope
I put myself here
I didn't know
How far it would go
Years in, and I am slowly dissected
Habits up for scrutiny
Emotions analyzed
Demeanor reviewed
Constantly screened
For any hint of disorder
Perhaps I am lucky
That help is at my finger tips
But it feels like a curse
When sickness is your soul
And it lives on through treatment
Through love
Through the microscope

Before the illness descended on my brain
I never felt particularly insane

Eating disorders are not all about wanting to be thin
The pain is much deeper and emerges from within

Your self concept is shattered.

I don't think others understand
What it takes to recover, to escape quicksand.

Eating disorder thoughts are rotten and cruel
They convince you that you are a complete fool

They spit negativity into your head
You believe your thoughts, tears are shed.

Your appearance in the mirror you continue to hate
Vile thoughts continue to berate

Try living with that constant dread
Like walking around with a boulder on your head

At some points wishing you'd be better off

...

Recovery.

Congrats! You've gained weight!
Your physical health has returned, look at that heart rate.

But I gained more than I wanted to gain.
My mind is spinning, the thoughts are insane.

My mind is battling a war each day.
As I try to go to school, be a human, be okay.

The strength and will to do that is intense.
To live with your mind continually on a fence.

To have restriction sit in the back of your mind.
As you try to keep up with school and not get behind.

It is not a choice.
The voice.
Is not a choice.

But recovery is.

To try to live how I want to live.

If you come across someone battling this fight
Commend them on their courage and might.

Be their support.
Even though you may not understand.
Lend a listening ear or a helping hand.

Be the difference in their day.
Help stop their thought spiral, remind them they're okay

Anything you say
Makes a difference.
Acceptance
Love
Care
Makes a difference

Love and care will fuel their fight
To know their thoughts are not right.

yesterday my mom told me a secret
that of you starve yourself your mouth will begin to taste sweet
the sweetest taste you may ever experience
but it makes your breath rancid
i don't know if she told me
because she knows i hate bad breath
or because i have a sweet tooth

Eating green peas,
Looking at the stalk curling,
With little twists and curves and edges.

What is that plant thinking of when it twists?
Is it pain? Is it bliss?
Beautiful and healing I thank the plant.
And continue eating...

How pretty is this little squiggly curved thing.