They thought i used makeup to contour my collarbones and make them pop.
But really.. I simply stopped eating anything.

I've always been obsessed with bones

When i was only 10 years old i saw a beautiful woman with extremely skinny, long and straight legs.
I wanted to be like her.

As long as i can remember i've always looked at peoples collarbones.
My friends says i'm obsessed with bones.

"How many coins can you stack on your collarbones?
I can stack 23 on each.
Wanna see a picture?"

If you want to look skinnier,
push back your *** and lean a bit forward.
That way you'll appear to have a thigh gap.

When i get anxious,
i rub the places on my body where i can feel bones.
It calms me to know i still have them

If you want to lose weight.
Starving is a great idea.
Drink water to fill you up, and burn at least 800 calories a day.

When i feel sad, i hit myself.
I don't like cutting, not anymore.
Bruising is much better.
The bonier you are the faster you bruise.

Everyone relates to a skeleton.

I'm not sick, i don't have an eating disorder and i'm not getting "too thin"

It's not like i lose a lot of weight.. Maybe 3-4 pounds a week.
But then i gain it back and lose a little more the next time.

My demons laugh, everytime i resist a piece of food.
They're proud of me, cause i'm still standing. Even after being empty for so long.

I'm not sick, i don't have an eating disorder, and i'm not getting "too thin"
I'm becoming a better me

At least you're recovering they said
"At least you're better now"

Well.. If i'm better now.
Why do i write the same ****** poems as i did last year?
And why are they exactly tas depressing as the old ones?
Why do i wait for tears that won't roll?
And why do i listen to my playlist, that's filled with depressing songs about suicide?
And why do i weigh the same as i did a year ago?
Why do i think about razor blades and matches?

I'm not better now.
Actually i'm worse than before.
The only thing i'm good at is having nervous breakdowns and hurting myself.
But i keep lying to make you feel good, cause it makes you happy to know that i'm "better now"

Everyone thinks i recovered months ago, that i'm so so happy and have no problems.

Cause i'm the girl watching mlp, and listening to songs about smiling and laughing.

But what they don't know is that at home i listen to songs about depression and eating disorders .

I no longer cut, cause i haven't felt the need to for a while, and i no longer starve, i just forget it sometimes.

Sometimes i forget that i'm recovering.
And i simply don't think about eating.
Or about singing the smile song when my friends are sad.

It's like i'm pinkie pie, sometimes i'm happy, but sometimes i also forget that i'm a party pony

I try to look my best, and people can't tell how sad i get every now and then.
Cause i try.. I really do..

The shirt that once hung loose from my shoulders, hugs me as tight as a small child does to its parent on the first day of swim lessons.

Shorts and pants that I used to swim in, now fit maybe a little too snugly.

And the weight I want to lose like a pair of glasses, or a set of keys, keeps adding up like apples in a math problem.

Does the saying "it will get worse before it gets better," have to apply to everything?

Maybe my shirts will hang lose again, just as the children get used to the water in time.

Maybe the snugness of my pants will wear old, and my bottoms will go back to needing belts to hold them up.

Maybe a friend named Sam will need some apples, and we will learn to subtract.

Maybe I will feel safe eating one of those apples, without wanting to throw it back up again.

Sometimes I think that I never want to give up this disordered habit of mine.

And other times I know it will never do me any good.

Behind brown eyes a shadow walks
Children love
And hearts break
Behind brown eyes blood is spilled
Secrets are kept
And lies are like oxygen
Behind brown eyes are left over feelings when
She kills herself inside
And buries the hatchet
Behind brown eyes lies a secret
Blood that burns
And metal that soothes
Behind brown eyes hunger waits
For an answer
And the answer never comes
Behind brown eyes lies Ana
Ana who is cold
And Ana who lies
Behind brown eyes is a broken soul
Who believes she is unfixable
And believes she is unloveable
Behind brown eyes lies me

Yesterday morning I remembered the comfort of hunger pains.
I ate as little as possible at lunch,
and didn't eat when I got home.

For the first time in almost a year,
I skipped dinner
and looked at photos of bodies I wanted to have.

For so long I was able to eat without worry,
and I never thought about skipping meals,
I was able to change the idea of a "weight goal"
To simply having a goal to be happy.

What is happening to me?

"'Mom, I'm tired.."
I said, as I walked slowly towards her
My arms weighing me down
Hanging by my sides, T-shirt no sweater

"Go take a nap sweetheart"
She replied in a sweet, soothing tone
Wish I had said something more
Cause where I'm going, there isn't a phone..

I've withered and got down to my goal
It's a shame more people didn't realize,
No one took it serious enough
I never felt like I was the right size

I couldn't feel anymore neither happiness nor pain
If this is what it took then I'm glad the job is done
I loved you all so much so please forgive me
But I think this nap will be my last one