Often whenever we face troubles or sorrows we think that only our pain is greater and we suffer more than others but literally the fact is that there are people out there who suffer more, whose pain is imaginable so if you have food, clothes and shelter be grateful to God be'coz some don't even have these happiness.

there is relief in
such tragedy,
when you're
not the one
who's
suffering.

..Who’s ana?
Ana…. why, ana is something special.
no one can hear anna or see ana but me.
Anorexia Ana.
My mom say’s i'm ill...and that Ana is the reason i have guilt…
but i still take Ana’s suicide pill.
She say’s skip dinner, you’ll be thinner, skinnier
thinner.
skinnier….how she desired to conspire and let Ana rewire her...but she was too blind to see that shes a liar.
she didnt know, it acquired diet pills and that as her blood spills, she would think she would be like the beverly hill models…
but little did she know, what she was remodeling.
it wasnt enough…
never good enough…
shes had enough… when will she feel like she’s good enough?

skinnier..
thinner…
Ana wants to be the winner, and so far, shes devouring the inner beauty of a teenage girl.
but darling...what she didnt know, that the search for perfection would **** her.
days go by…..she becomes weaker…..people call her a pleasure seeker when they dont see her on the school bleachers.
the teachers worry, and even the preachers in the church of god still nod and pray to god she wont earn a pair of wings too soon.
her scale that whispers “you’re 90...and still not tiny.”
weeks go by, fragile like a antique….while her tiny body i oblique.
shes cold….but shes proud.
shes proud of the gap between her thighs and how her jean size doesnt show her ***** secret that underlies.
she cries, her body shuddering, her hearts fluttering…..shes suffering…
Anna says “keep pushing. if you want to be skinnier, and thinner. slender and bony only.”
the world bowed down thier heads in shame. shame to the family name.
you’ll go to bed hungry tonight,
telling yourself you dont need to eat.
ana’s telling you that you’re fat agian
that you’re imperfect,
from your eyes down to your feet.
you’d think you’d feel beautiful,
because look; you’re finally thin
though your not skinny yet, and you wont be until you see the danger that you are in.
even then it wont be enough,
because beauty is a drug, and addiction is tough…..she refuses to see ana is making her life tough….but she see’s that when the scale drops, ana says “fair enough”
a 15 year old girl with a lifeless 70 pound body, and still doesnt think she has “thea perfect body”.
bony ribs, and a pointy hip bones…..“she looks like a bag of bones”
as if sticks and stones would describe her mental break downs ….
but she never makes a sound…. Ana says “now you’re hell bound. dont make a sound ….now you belong in a hole in the ground…..ive win and you’re mine now.”
she called Ana, her friend. she was one of the few. she saw in her things that no one knew.

but before she knew, when she knew she couldnt break through,
when she couldnt pull through,
she withdrew her cold poor soul ….and was now in gods view.

We all have our dark times,Some find the light others ignore
We all have demons inside,But some turn away
You may think we're the same but trust me we're not
If you had my life you'd hate it a lot more.

Some days i struggle to move
Most days i just sit and cry
No motivation, no goal in sight
What do i have to truly prove.

Believe me i've tried to end this show once or twice
I've tried both the positive and negative
Neither have worked
i want to end my life, grab a knife and slice.

I've cried so many times i've lost track
Im sick of this constant fear
I wish i could be happy trust me i do
I'm tired of an everyday panic attack


Some days i struggle to move
Most days i just sit and cry
No motivation, no goal in sight
What do i have to truly prove.

My eyes are numb from the tears i've flown
Cried over loss of loved ones time and time
I thought i could get through this
Who can i blame i should've know.

I'll try again to break the spell
If i fail and this pain finally ends
don't look back in sadness
My story you must tell.

I walk the city, the city clean
Where the sun is brighter on this side,
I keep my head straight no to be seen,
Though all my guilt can I cannot hide.

When the dove sings below me I can hear,
When the child suffers I do understand,
Where my conscience bundles up its fear
Before the child does raise her hand.

I carry no hope or miracle for the child
But I probably should spare the change,
To leave her in this city wild,
Would a dollar or pennies ease her pain?

With head straight forward I continue a march,
Pockets jingle past the innocent poor,
Walking past my burning heart,
I wonder if Heaven for her will open a door.

Did I win or lose?
Perhaps-maybe nature won.
One less spin cycle,
Gallons of life water saved.
In my intellectual hemitage
I find a difference can be made,
Oh underwear,
Spirit of nature,
First I wear you proper,
And the day is good.
I walk forward into the morrow
And turn the world backwards.
Yes the tag now goes to front,
And wedgies aside, all is well.
In the instantaneous moment
Ina departure of normalities,
Confronted with a bundle of reflections,
I move into day three,
Inside out.
The days have dispersed,
I wreak of the third day,
Still a difference has been made.
I take off the underwear,
Crispy and tainted,
With a lump in my throat
And a little hope I made a difference,
The underwear is sacrificed to the hamper.