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Overflowing tears fill her eyes,
as doubt fills inside her mind.
She is overwhelmed and confused,
she is exhausted and tired of being bruised.
However, one things for sure.
She will no longer let her demons get the best of her.
She will no longer stand for a life full of misery and torment.
For she’s now had a taste of pure freedom and forgiveness.
As she is now following her dreams.
Everything is falling into place,
and once again;
she does not want to lose how beautiful her life has become.
It's better to be be alive and thriving, rather than being consumed, sick and dying.
Daily thoughts by me
Bitter sweet air fills my lungs with dignity and doubt all at once.
And although my head knows what needs to be done, the voice inside can no longer be contained.
It screams for a way out.
How can it be? She whispered in silence.
That I have allowed my body, my temple, to be denied of the very things in existence that it needs to survive.
One of my favourite pieces that I've written.
Starve your brain,
alluring pain.
An induction that never ends.
The longer you go,
there will be nothing but just a trail of hideous brittle bones.
As your body begins to deteriorate,
your body will eat your own organs and flesh.
Not so pretty anymore I see,
nothing but a disastrous mess.
lila Apr 2019
it started off innocent enough
i heard the jokes
stage whispered into eager ears
and the muffled laughter
that inevitably follows
i felt every syllable
claw their way down my throat
i’ve been trying to reach them ever since

i admit this to you
in a body that buries bones
the dull corners not enough
to trigger your concern
no one looks at me and sees empty

seventh grade, twelve years old
i began skipping lunch
because i didn’t need it anyway
4 years later and
i guess i still don’t
this was my first venture
into restriction fueled by insecurity
because with a body like this
no one could ever love me

it’s so easy to say
i already ate
if i word it just right
no one asks questions when i disguise
my madness as magic
step right up! come and see
this body, the greatest freak show on earth
and i’ve mastered every trick in the book
so easy it is now
to conceal the dark magic
while i showcase the light

i’ll swallow blades and fire
and nothing else
i’ll regurgitate miles of handkerchiefs
in front of your very eyes
so you don’t notice what comes up after

the slight of hand
was the hardest to master
but now i perform it with ease
i can make this food disappear
before you even notice it was there
palm it in my hand
hide it in my napkin
bury it in the trash
where you'll never see it again
aren't you mystified by the unknown?

nothing can beat my greatest trick of all
a necromantic resurrection
of a dead thing
a zombie now walks
among the living
the parasite finally killed the body
it possessed

it latched onto my brain
thrived on my detriment
took and took and took
until there was nothing left of me
i was consumed by something
that was consuming me
this thing
that i've grasped onto for control
has grasped onto me
i've been reduced to nothing more
than my efforts to reduce myself
the parasite becomes the host

i heard the comments
and took them as compliments
gasoline poured onto an open flame
that i can't seem to put out
i thought this fire would extinguish
as the comments morphed to concerns
but that only made it burn brighter
and i'm not sure
how much longer
i can take this heat
shattered porcelain is still beautiful right?

piece me back together
but i'll never be the same
spiderweb fractures across
fragile skin may never fade
but maybe weeds
can still sprout through
i can paint daisy chains across my scars
and roses in the hollows of my collarbones
wildflowers grow
from the inside out
through the cracks in my flesh
and in the valleys between each rib
slow and steady
up my throat until i choke
but that's okay because
at least it wasn't food
i'll swallow bouquets
to keep my starvation in full bloom

the rumble in my stomach
became my favorite song
a national anthem
for a living hell
that brings life to these monsters
if you are what you eat
maybe i can be nothing

i dance around the word "anorexia"
like it's cursed
because i can't seem to admit
that this disease
has devoured my mind
and made every one of my thoughts its own
so i dress my words
in pretty metaphors
and tie beautiful syllables
around my sickness like a bow

but there's nothing beautiful about
hair that falls out when it's touched
and a body racked with chills
in a warm room
there's nothing beautiful about
losing everything
that matters most to you
friends, family
even the ability to have children
there's nothing beautiful
about ***** on your hair
and on your clothes
blood dripping from your nose
or that ache that lies
deep in your brittle bones

this disease is not beautiful
broken isn't beautiful
but darling
you are
Invocation Jan 2019
And you're too tired to talk to me
I wish I had more to say to a faceless community but you're asleep next to me and I don't dare wake you. You work in the morning. It IS the morning. You've been busting *** while I sit happily on mine. How can I wake you to share these thoughts you need to hear? Sleep is my favourite comfort zone. I shan't take it away from you. Sleep blissfully my love.
Diane Aug 2017
Every time I
catch a glimpse of my reflection in a shop window I
have to check.

Legs. Still there, apparently.
Still thin even though I
ate lunch today.

Every time I
sit down on the toilet to *** I
have to check.

Tailbone. Still protrudes a little, apparently.
Still hasn’t disappeared, isn’t
buried under fat even though I
put milk in my coffee this morning.

Softly, gently
My hands explore my back, tracing up
along my spine because I
have to check.

I wonder if I look a bit like
a dinosaur illustration from a child’s encyclopaedia:
you know, the one with the triangular bump-y things
running along its back?
Stegosaurus! That’s the one!
(I had to Google it.)

I have to check.
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