I am a faceless creature
Turned into a sexualized doll
Little girls soon will grow into a toy
Watch your back little girl
Be beautiful
Be the someone the beast wants you to be
Evil is real
Love is rare
They want you for that moment in time
Not because of your worth
But because of those pretty little legs they can spread
Lie their turning the sound of your crying into a sexualized moan
They won’t even know their pleasure
Is the same scars you cut into your body
Trying to get them out of you

“You will never regret recovery.”
I am regretting every minute of it.

It starts with a slip,
A turn of the cheek.
Simply forgetting to fit,
A meal for your body to keep.

You see, at this point,
It isn’t really starving.
For I forget only when I’m not hungry.
But the problem is,
I’m so used to being hungry
That I can’t tell the difference.

I thought I was better,
Until my boyfriend asked why he’s never seen me eat.
Until I was asked when the last time I ate was.
Until I faint, and I’m reminded to eat.

But now when I eat,
I have an Apple.
But I get sick,
Because it was too much food.

I can’t keep anything down,
So I have no choice but to not eat.

And so the cycle repeats.

To eat or not to eat?
To disappear into nothingness or to grow and blossom?
To live or to die?
To diet to live?
To live to diet?
To fail or to succeed?
To be strong or to be weak?
To drown or to float?
To be who I am or to be who I wish I were?
To accept imperfection or to strive for perfection?
To be happy and content or to be sad and eternally unsatisfied?
To eat or not to eat?

If you cut her open, what would you see?
Are her bones like paper?
Do they fold and cave in like I wish mine did?
Does her heart beat like mine does,
Or did it die when she stopped eating?
Are her lungs full of air?
Does she breath like I do,
Or did they give up when
she forced her boney fingers down her throat?
Is having a thigh gap the true
meaning of life?
Does a flat stomach mean happiness?
Was she happy in the hospital?
With no way out.
Stuck in a place that served as
constant reminder of her toxic head
The devil himself ripping at her flesh,
Telling her to stop eating.
To hollow herself out so she can
truly be empty.
“You need to eat.” they said.
“Stop purging.” they said.
But little do they know it’s not so simple.
When your hatred for yourself runs so deep
That it cuts through every *****, every tissue,
every cell, until there’s nothing left.  
Sometimes I wonder if skinny girls bleed.
How can you look so weak, and have blood
run through your veins?
Does bleeding make you human?
Or is being beautiful more important?

to think about an addiction
like it’s a sentient being,
but that’s how it feels.

like it’s something living
inside you. something
you can’t get rid of because
killing it means killing you.

i can’t really understand
addictions to drugs or alcohol.
things that control you.

but an eating disorder
is an addiction you control.
wait, is that paradoxical?
i prefer to believe not.

either way, i kick off my shoes,
slide along the tile and into
the kitchen, calming my genie

with promises. twinkies. ice
cream bars. Halloween candy.
***** the trick-or-treaters.

why does everyone around me have a life jacket but i dont

Saline streams ran down my cheeks and found it's way to my lips
Glitter and shine like sequins as they drip down the terrain,
Seeping into the cracks in a desperate attempt to drink the life I've given up

I'm older now but nothing has changed
My wine still tastes like bitter childhood and my cigarettes smelled like my father
(Or maybe my father smelt like cigarettes, I couldn't tell)
A bag of anger packaged in Mcdonald's chicken nuggets sat on my work desk like a trophy to behold

I was only 6 when the first crack in my heart ran through
My mother told me that maybe copious amounts of cheesy fries and roasted chicken would somehow motivate my body to fill it up
I needed reassurance that would coat it in resin
Give it another layer of protection
But she gave me a bag of hard candy so I could sculpt around it

My body shook and my voice cracked as my father left my the family for the 3rd time and I knew my trust was gone forever
But that's fine because 7-Eleven is down the streets
And they have a promo for chocolate-vanilla ice cream
All I needed was a cone to catch the tears as I swallowed it down like melted sugar syrup

I tell myself that adding chocolate chips into my depression would not make it taste sweeter
But when I took a bite out of that cookie, I could barely tell I've been crying
And a few mugs of mocha drowned the thought deep into my mind

I'm older now
But my taste buds still have me ******* on a chain
And it feels like the only way to escape
Is to jump down the abyss

The girl with a beautiful smile
A vibrant personality,
And a picture perfect family.
Envied and loved.
Not a single person to hate
Besides herself.
The things that nobody sees is when
She breaks down,
Cries,
And every night
Hunches over the toilet
With a spoon in her throat.
Telling herself only one more time to be pretty.
One more time to be happy.
One more time to be loved.
One more time to escape.
One more time to get better.
One more time to stop.
She lets her emotions overrule
And demons take control.
Life shouldn't be this way.
Her father's a drunk, her mothers a drug addict.
She would do anything to escape this world
Of darkness,
But no one seems to know.
She puts on this picture perfect image
To protect herself,
Despite it killing her that her voice will never be heard
No one seems to even notice
The bruises on her legs and back
Or how she always seems to go to the bathroom
Every time she eats "too much."
If she told anyone,
They would hate her,
Her parents would hurt her,
And she would never have any hope
Of becoming the girl she pretends to be.

It's been a back and forth motion:

losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
  maintaining
losing

for nearly a decade.

I can't seem to find* my way back up from this downward spiral
and I'm losing more than mass as I descend.

I don't have anyone close enough to stop me. Not that I'd let them anyways.

I'm going to keep
losing and
losing and
losing.

I'll turn sideways and disappear.
Shrivel up into .nothing.

And maybe then,
   just then,
I might feel valid.

(*correction: I can but I refuse to.)