my ribs look like fingers pressing against fine silk
I should not be okay with this
I should not be okay with this
I should not be okay with this

This is self control my love
brittle fingers as you bite your nails
blue eyes that stair hauntingly at the food on the plate
This is self control my love
Counting each calorie one by one
Feeling your body crying out for food
This my love
Is self control
You look pretty
Prettier every time you see that number on the scale go down
Prettier with every sit up you do
Closer
And closer to perfection as you lower your calories one by one
This my love is self control
Self control
Self hatred
Self control
My lovely dear
This is self control my love

in maths i was told that numbers rule our lives,
that every detail can be measured, counted, put into figures and digits and statistics.
i laughed at the idea.
but now i believe there is some truth in those words,
that numbers are in fact the one thing that rules over our small existence,
be it the number of friends at the dinner table
celebrating a pay-rise or a birthday or simply just to compensate for the hours since they were last united.
or maybe this importance can be found
in the number of pounds in your back pocket
or the pounds of food on the table in front of you,
the amount of fuel you fill your body with,
the pounds that you shed as you decide you no longer need fuel
and the numbers in front of you begin to decrease.
there are numbers everywhere.
there are numbers at the tips of your fingers as you determine
how much you need,
counting out each tiny pill as you prepare to swallow them like candy
and finally get the sweet release you so desperately crave.
perhaps the numbers are found in the length of rope as you stand at the top
counting down from ten, anticipating
the grand finale, unless you take
from your maths lessons and decide instead to calculate the dimensions, the
length and the depth to travel with the blade as it so delicately graces your skin,
breaking the ice at last.

in maths i was told that numbers rule our lives,
but looking back, i think you’ll find that they rule more over death.

winning doesn't taste quite right
when it's all you've eaten in days

I've been too far out all my life I think
And not smiling but... but agonizing.

They rang to see was I alright, was I
   OK
I smiled down the phone, told them I
   was fine
That I was reading a bit, watching TV
Out sunning myself in the back
   garden
What I didn't tell them I suppose, was
   the real truth
That my Demons they were keeping
   me entertained
They were sitting on the fence right
   now watching me
Like great big Birds of Prey.

"Are you keeping yourself fit", they asked, " getting enough exercise ",
" Yes!", I smiled again, "I do daily runs
   around the garden"
Of course, this too was a fib, a lie
The truth was it was really my
   demons again
Who were chasing me around the
   garden
No! Me! I wasn't smiling, I was just...
   just agonizing.

"Are you eating enough ?" they asked
"Yes, I am", I replied again smiling, " I
   had lots of food in the house
What I neglected to tell them was of
   course, the truth
That really it was my demons who
   were eating me
And Boy! were they having a feast.

"O!", I thought to myself, " when this
   whole thing is all over (the virus
     crisis)
I gotta get myself a woman
Some lovely sweet pretty lookin'
   thing
She'll save me from my demons
They'll find her more appetizing
Can eat her first instead of eating me".

i wonder what heavens like
is my grandma there?
is both my grandpas there?
is cassy, lilly, and stella there?
are my friends there?

is it quiet at night there?
is it peaceful like the morning sun
rising over the ocean so calmy?
is there thunderstorms that put you to sleep?
is there no pain there?
do you laugh so hard your stomach aches there?

why does it sound nicer
to be there
than
it does to be here
within all of this ******* chaos
within all of this ******* pain
why am i here and not there?

i use to think
i slit my wrists
in hopes
i would forget
the emotional pain
and just focus on
the physical

i use to think
if i starved my body
for days on end
resulting in seizures
from my diabetes
the pain of hunger
would no longer
rumble within my bones

all those years
thinking i did it
as a distraction
but really

it was a way
to no longer be numb
to no longer be hollow
to remind myself that
i am allowed to f e e l