I am learning how to be a person again.

I am learning how to put food in my mouth again and
taste it.
how to eat (3 times) every day and
not to skip meals or
spit them out when I am
upset.

I am learning how to be a person again.

I am learning how to let myself feel again-
the good emotions and
the bad ones.
how to take the memories out from their locked trunk and
examine them,
turn them over and feel the sharpness of every
edge
to not run away
even when they bite.

I am learning how to be a person again.

I am learning how to not tear my skin apart when everything becomes
too
much.
how to not pick at old wounds and
make them new ones.
I am not very good at this one yet
but some lessons take more time to learn.

I am learning how to be a person again.

I am learning how to love again-
real love.
how to trust and
not to shake when your hands come near me
and not to make
excuses
for things that can never be excused
and how to take
the walls
down
slowly.

1.  There is nothing romantic about the way our hair falls out or the way we hover over the open toilet like there's no other empty space in the house.
2. Do not think that it will be easier to love us because the love we aren’t giving ourselves will go to you.
3. You can trail your fingers along my rib cage, count every vertebrae in my back like marbles stacked high on top of each other. This is not beautiful, this is what dying looks like.
4. I’m sorry for the smell of my breath, but there’s no amount of toothpaste that could cover up the smell of myself rotting from the inside out.
5. “I thought you had to be skinny to have an eating disorder.”
5.   “You don’t look like you starve yourself.”
5.   I know that you wish you could hold me without worrying i’ll turn to dust if you squeeze too hard.
6.   I grew up being told that my body is a temple and I should treat it as such, but I don’t think this is right, see; temples can be destroyed but it always takes another person. I am doing this to myself.
7.   I can’t remember the last time I ate without feeling guilty.
7.   I can’t remember the last time I ate.
8.   One day, I will be nothing and you will be nothing, and i’m sorry that i’m already so close to being gone.
9.   I want to get better. I am trying to get better.
10. Do not think that loving us will be easier, because the love we do not give ourselves is gone, and we cannot love you more than we don’t love ourselves.

I. Clawing inside the walls of my stomach it hurts too good I don't get out of bed to feed it but if I move it stops for a bit I love feeling empty when I first wake up it feels clean and pure nothing has corrupted my body yet and there's nothing in it making it harder to breathe or think

II. This sunburn is reminding me of all the times my brain wanted me to peel my skin off. I always caught myself right before it was too late but it never leaves.

III. I ate something and my sunburn is almost healed but the thoughts still visit from time to time.

I look past my reflection in the mirror;
whale-sized thighs, and
arms too big for the oceans
rain pours down like sharp daggers
into my flesh, and I’m tired
teeth hurt, and I’m tired
heart pounding, and I’m tired
my mermaid waves leave my head like
an old porcelain doll, dying
and I’m tired
I teach my body how to stop needing,
in with the calories, and I’m tired
out with the calories, and I’m really tired
silent screams echo at the fake reflection
that stares blindly through the broken
mirrors
**** me up, I’m seeing stars tonight
bones aching, and I’m smiling
bullets to the head, and I’m smiling
painstakingly dancing through the night
till I’m void of nothing,
they say empty is beautiful, and I want
so dearly to feel beautiful
calories scattered on the floor, like the
those scattered thoughts of everything
I used to be
and everything I am now
scatterbrain, tell me how you feel
when your insides are void of
self-love
you eat hatred for breakfast
and spit self-pity into your toilet
tell me again, silly girl,
do you feel beautiful now?

Because I’m a fat ***.
Because I was already irritated.
The way you were hanging on me.
The work I need to do.
The food in my stomach metabolizing straight to my
thighs/hips/arms/face/calves/cheeks/***/waist/chest.

Who are you anyway?
My guts were black like charcoal and twice as gritty.

**** Sundays.
**** Valentine’s.
**** fancy dinners
**** new clothes
**** sleeping in
**** food anyway.
**** being nice.
**** being sweet.

Because you called me pretty
And I can’t stand the lies that are so sticky sweet
and make messes and gather all the dirt from the air
and somehow it’s still sticky and now it’s black and you can’t scrub it off.

Because you throw around things like “love” and “forever”
and “beautiful”
but they’re too heavy for me to catch and all they do is leave me with
bruises.

And bruises just remind me of fat.

Because you still don’t know that I’m
Stupid and fat and ugly and crazy.

Because you make it hard for me to feel bad.

Because you throw around things like “forever”
and this is the only way I can catch it.

A speck
It festers

Silently
Growing

Leeching
Unnoticeably

Raspy voiced  
Less than whispered

Barely noticed
A pesky itch

Ignore
A twitch

Ignore
It won't exist

Ignore
Fade away

Please
The edge is turning grey

The plague is back
Black

And here to stay

In truth
It never really went away

you dont know me
once the lights go out
you dont know me
once my blood starts running
you dont know me
when i collapse on the floor screaming
you dont know me
when i scratch at my skin
you dont know me
you dont know my sin
you dont know me
the depths i hide within