You ever felt so lost?
Like your life had a path,
but you went off track
and cant find your way back?

The hands of depression grab a hold of me,
grip as strong as graphene.
Drowning me while I'm still breathing.
Brainwashing me of my happiness.

Through all the pain I finally scream out
"Enough is Enough!"
but it just echoes through the tunnels of loneliness.

Anxiety wraps around me like a straitjacket,
pulling me under the waves of life and socialization,
drowning me in the depths of the oceans with it's sinking anchor.
Pulling me deeper and deeper until the sands of a panic attack tickle my feet.

Thoughts in my mind swarm me like bees of a disturbed nest.
Tears in my eyes overwhelm me in the same vein a thunderstorm in a desert.

Numbing the pain with sleep, alcohol, and cigarettes.
I've smoked so many cigarettes my demons are addicted to nicotine.
But nothing can numb the pain of being stuck in your life.
The smoke will never fade them away.

Maybe one day I'll live life instead of fighting it.
"Maybe one day," I tell myself to keep going.
Maybe one day.

maybe.

Slim waist.
Skinny arms.
Thigh-gap legs.

“Perfect bodies,” we call them.
“Beautiful” and
“Real.”
But there is nothing real in plasticity,
Nothing beautiful in being ashamed
Of stretchmarks
And imperfections.

Self-hate is not beautiful.

Self-hate is a bunch of weeds,
Growing on the outskirts of our minds,
Slowly inching their way
Into the flowerbeds of our lives,
Killing everything in their path
And leaving a trail of burnt nothingness.

Self-hate is the wandered gone astray,
The lost hiker desperate for a path
To lead him back.
It is panic and despair;
The road for self-destruction.

Self-hate is an ignored cry for help,
A stumble into a dead-end street.
It is staring into a dark void—
Only to be stared back by your own tormented eyes.

Self-hate is not beautiful.
It is your soul begging to be saved
By your own self.

5AM Wake Up grab the workout clothes, ***, drink water
505AM Meditate inhale...2...3...exhale...2...3...repeat
520AM Run like you've never run before like you're getting away from him
540AM Shower the colder the better inhale...4...5...exhale...4...5...
6AM Breakfast gotta eat something anorexia won't fix anything
615AM Read inhale...6...7...exhale...6...7...repeat
625AM Leave it's only school you like school
730AM School just a few hours of bliss inhale...8...9...exhale...8...9...
230PM Homework 20 minutes a subject, a day minimum
3PM Snack remember to drink more water don't throw it up
430PM Run run harder remember to breathe
5PM Shower it's okay to be a little warm tears can fall here
630PM Dinner you know the time shifts eat up
7PM America's Favorite Hour work your mind give your heart a pause
8PM Bedtime ***, brush teeth, more water
10PM Fall asleep the insomnia is hard *the depression is worse

I should have my phone taken away from me.
I take pictures of myself with it
All the time,
Just to make myself feel
Worse
About myself,
If that is even possible.
I use the photos like a zoomed in
Mirror.
Something made to specifically
Point out my flaws.
To point out
The scars
The rolls
The bumps
All of the things that are perfectly
Natural.
But I don't want
Natural.
The only thing
Natural
Has done for me
Is make me want to shed
My body
For one entirely different.
And,
In a way,
I am,
Shedding my
Body.
I have changed,
A lot.
I have grown to
Crave
The pain in the pit of my gut.
I have figured out
Every
Single
Way
To make my bones protrude
Further
From beneath my skin.
I have learned to
Control
How much I eat.
I have figured a way to
Toss my food,
Instead of consume it.
Because I would rather
Die
Than consume another
Calorie,
To have another
Pound
On my body.
I have the
Perfect
Amount of
Control
Over myself,
But I am no more
Beautiful.
Everything just
Hurts.
And no,
I can't "Just Eat"
To stop that
Pain.
It doesn't work like
That.
Things are so much more
Complicated.
I wish they weren't.
Maybe,
Just maybe,
If they weren't,
I might love
Myself,
Instead of
Cry
Over a ******
Number
Every morning.