i have skimmed every encyclopedia,
have gone through to limits of every book in biology,
and even went on to read depths of psychology,
but i have yet to find an answer
as to why a father could hurt his own daughter

My family doesn't reach out to me,
All weight is on me to say hi.
If I talk too long, outbursts can occur
Contradictions leave me at a loss for words

They want a relationship with fiction,
An image; or story they see me as.
I used to try to fit the frame they made
But doing that lead me down a bitter path

Now I try to accept the reality,
Who I am inside is not enough for them.
When I'm myself, I recieve lots of judgment
Or comments that I don't understand.

At this point
It’s embarrassing
I should have this under control by now
At this point
I’m not even trying to impress anyone
Including myself
At this point
It’s all habit
At this point
I’ve come to accept I may not get better
I googled how many calories a woman my age is supposed to eat in a day
and I don’t even come close to half of those most days of the week
I’m not proud of this
I lie to my fiancé about how much I eat and that I’m full when I’m not
I don’t tell anyone that my stomach hurts all the time
or my intestines, or whatever it is that hurts
I don’t tell anyone that everything I eat I am counting the calories in my mind and calculating just how many steps I need to do tomorrow to counter act the food I just ate
I go to therapy but still haven’t fully brought up my eating disorder
to be honest, I haven’t felt like I should because I’m still up walking around
I still go to work everyday
No one is telling me I look sickly
So I just go with that
But I know the truth
The fact that I feel like crying when I know I haven’t had enough to eat today and yet I make enough money to feed myself
The fact that I have the ability to eat and I love the way certain foods taste & yet I never let myself full enjoy anything
I feel like crying when my stomach hurts so bad I can’t get up off the toilet because my intestines are killing me
I feel like crying when I get a sick satisfaction that I can feel my hip bone pointing out more than usual
I feel like crying when I realize I can’t help myself
At this point
I know better
and yet my brain doesn’t seem to give a ****

Cease
And release me.
The fire
Burns freely.

Eating me
Slowly.
Fists open the
Walls of my sanity.

Hot,
And heavy.
Breath rapid yet steady.

It hasn’t left me,
Internally,
Destroying me quickly.

For you,
Do not notice.

But only when you do,
I am a monstrosity.

There is a monster under my bed.
Hauting, screaming, hurting me.
It talks to me every night.
I believe it doesn't want me here.
It screams and cries, acts more like a child than me.
It smells of the bottles in the glass container.
It stumbles up the stairs.
It opens every window, let's the cold winter frost in and hopes it freezes time.
Instead, it freezes me.
I wait, behave, hope.
I stay silent so it doesn't notice I'm here.
Tomorrow it will wake me up.
Tomorrow it will attend a parent-teacher conference.
Tomorrow they will praise it.
"You did a good job raising her"
Tomorrow it will turn into my mother.
Tomorrow night, the monster returns.

KING FISHER HEART 1



I am turning to face the sun, ready to face her burning power. Will I be guided or blinded by her strong glare? Sometimes I falter in the game that is called life. I have many talents and I know quite a bit but there is always more waiting to be shown. I am like an eagle, majestic in flight, but life says that the eagle can fall so easily. I have a girl who is my king fisher heart: will she be mine – or will she fly away? We help each other when one is down, but what happens when we both fall? Life is an ocean with hidden dangers, the price of its beauty.