I wish I was
something more than
what I dare to call
myself
because this body was
never hurt this much
because this mind was
never haunted this much
because those nightmares
once stopped when I
woke up
but since when I can recall
they last longer than
twenty four hours
and this is insane
am I this insane?
that doctor says I don't look that ill
the other says I should
go in the psych ward
the other says I'm in the control
while the other one says
the harm on my body means
I'm not the one in charge
any longer
am I insane yet?
I should call 911
but I'm afraid another doctor
will attempt to say what's
going on
inside myself
instead of asking me
what I'm feeling for real
or why these injuries are for
or why the empty stomach
keeps growling
won't you eat, my dear?
I say no
won't you take your meds, my dear?
I say why
won't you enjoy your life like a normal human being?
I ask why should I
since im in the border of sanity
way more on the side
of those ones
stuck between four walls
white bedsheets
and treated like kids
who forgot to take their medicines
at home
so now they need a special care
am I insane yet?
I wonder
but no one dares
to answer.

I read a vogue magazine once

I wanted to be more mature
I wanted to be a child again

I was bored of how I looked

I was called 'fat' once

I needed more control over myself
I needed someone to look after me

I wanted to deny myself a basic human need

I was in so much pain that I needed more

I lost weight and I couldn't stop
I found something I was good at

I ran out of ways to destroy myself

"You're a control freak" you yell at me.

When all I am looking for is some sort of consistency

you're right though, I only like what i can't control

maybe that's why I have good grade, but maybe that is also why I stick my fingers down my throat

i knew this girl
everyone was happy when she was born.
she had the most beautiful face

i knew this girl
she was three years old no care in the world
scarlet lips, and deep brown eyes
she had just gotten her glasses she was so proud

i knew this girl
she was six years old excited to grow up
pigtails, smarter than the other kids

i knew this girl
9 years old oldest in her grade
she already has acne the other kids pick on her but she could stand it

i knew this girl  
12 years old she thought she was fat
her acne was worse, she was coovered in blemishes.
she didn't want her glasses anymore.
she was an outcast, all the other kids just ignored her

i knew this girl
13 years old wounds all up her arms and legs
she has stopped eating her weight dropping to 100lbs

i knew this girl
14 years old she took off her glasses and put on darker clothes
she blends into the crowd
her arms and legs are covered with scars.
her weight is down to 75 lbs

i know this girl
15 years old.
fighting to recover, having relapses all the time
drinking, ******* around, fasting, then overeating.
her weight is back up to 94 but why should she keep it there?

i might get to know this girl
20 years old living a happy life
scars on her arms, but they're all faded by now.
her hands shake when she eats.
But this is only if she fights to get better.
if not she will never live to see this age.

Small
Sweet girl
All alone
Holding herself
Pinching the extra fat upon her thighs
Five miles. No meals. hope one day she'll learn
Beauty cant be
weighed by a
Lifeless
Scale

-ARI

I fight with my hands
so they do not begin
to trace deep rivers on my stomach
that always lead to my hipbone basin

I flex my palms
and admire how my knuckles protrude
when I relax them again

My cheek bones can be felt
with a light pressure
and everlasting insecurity
but my chin never thins
quite the way I want

I pull my hair elastic forward
so that it sits right before
my perfect wrists

I admire my knees
as I sit in a tight skirt,
eyes trailing upward,
smile getting smaller,
thighs getting bigger

I tell myself I am better
and then I am alone