there are nights
in which my body plays cage
the space we take up feels too much
everything numbs
and that feeling returns
the one i can only describe as burning
and we are merged
and we are divided
we are overly aware of our limbs
yet we cannot feel them at all
my body does not love me
she returns
making herself home in my belly and *******
there is something familiar about it
something comfortable
like sinking and floating at the same time
the cold and the dark and the deep
carrying me off to places unspeakable
embracing me
sealing me up as if i were a letter
and it an envelope
i am sent with no return address
and my heart sighs the song of my wonder
if this body will ever be mine

i miss the sadness
i miss the home that never was
the beautiful you never thought you were

where has your pretty gone
who’s wearing your flowered dress now
whose lips are your boyfriends kissing
who could’ve known this was to come

i miss your father’s pride
when you gave him a reason to be sober
now all you are is disappointment
another unlucky occurrence for him to sleep with on the couch
his favourite drinking buddy

i miss church
i miss the red the pastor turned you
the blood running to your holy cheeks
when the congregation applauded
at the fact that you would burn for this
that this secret would be the end of you
the ***** that came up in that bathroom
the god that frowned upon the smell

i miss the way boys used to look at you
when you were something to be desired
when you made others feel more than just confused
when you weren’t an inconvenience to love
you’d rather your innocence be stolen for being beautiful
than for being unwanted
i suppose you pick your poison

i miss the way you looked
every night you cried
the colour mascara makes when it meets blood
like drugstore lipstick
at least there was something gorgeous
something romantic about it
the way the moonlight made your bones stick out
it was something boys could fall in love with

pretty girl
why would you ruin yourself like this
happy girl
how couldn’t you see it for yourself
you were a trophy
your future said husband
it said children
it said the life we want for you
forget your own

you were not happy
but how can you learn to be now
that place that played safe haven
at least, was warm

you are not sure if you miss the sadness
you simply know
this world wants you to

I saw my lifeless body
and yet i mocked it
letting violent
self-degrading
words and thoughts
carve into my soul
destroying my self-esteem
making myself truly believe
that i was
unlovable
worthless

I am sorry i made you watch
whilst i slowly disappeared
abusing the body
you spent 9 months carefully constructing
starving it of nutrients
becoming nothing but
hollowed out bones and translucent skin

I am sorry that i made you watch
whilst i slowly killed myself

I will not miss the way you made me feel
how my bones constantly ached, struggling to keep me upright
how exhaustion seeped from my pores
each day more of a struggle than the last
The cold penetrating through layers of clothes and thin flesh
unable to experience the warmth

I will not forget
how confusion constantly clouded my mind
experiencing the world through a thick fog
my thoughts intrusive and incessant
capable of only focusing on a singular concept

you extinguished the life in my eyes
stripping me of my identity
purging my substance
leaving only a hollow shell
unrecognisable
empty

time passes by
and i don't realize it
see
i must just dissociate each moment
they say it happens when there is something bad going on
it's a so called "escape"
each moment is bad
so i can believe that
because
i'm not so sick anymore and i'm envious of the sick girls
my therapist said i don't need a high level of care anymore
so i guess i've failed
****
****
****
**** i ******* wish i couldnt walk again
looking like an auschwitz survivor
and i'm jealous
of girls bruised knuckles and
caved in eyes
now i jiggle
i was once that way
can't i do it again?
again
again
again
again im in a position that my body makes me want to die
or look like i am atleast
how did i get this big?
come back, come back
i need that illness back or else i might not be able to go on
i need it.
come back.

“Which one you got?”
They inquire as if it’s something you receive.
“Whats it like?”
When you got that toy as a child, remember how invigorating it was?
“Well do you like it?”
Of course I like it. Or atleast at one point I did. Now it’s just there and I’m bored of it.
“Well why?”
Every toy becomes a burden at one point.
“So what do you do with it now?”
I try to put it away and hide it, because I hate when guests come over and ask me about it.
“But weren’t you so excited about it at one point?”
Yeah, but times change.
“So which one you got?”
They ask over and over again.
Finally I respond to the question. “Anorexia.”

Why can I forgive everyone else,
But never myself.