The world seems to
fall apart so fluidly after
one breath.

One single moment in space
and time that allows my tightly
wound ribbon to curl and fall
below my feet.

I look down as it sinks to the
dust and mess that lay below;
a once imaginary place for this
neatly kept masterpiece.

Just another let down
with a quick lash to
ensure that spark on
your toungue hits
deep enough to leave
a scar.

Disappointment doesn't
follow surprise this time
because I expect no less
from the compassionless
and weak of heart.

Just business is the excuse;
the business of burning dreams
and absorbing the energy
from one to satiate another.

Never created or destroyed,
just stolen outright from
another to keep you going
from day to day.

I find myself on a winding trail
with passing thoughts of years past
and where I was at that point in time.

It's there I realize that, like a tattoo,
trauma never really leaves you. I
seem to remember the snap of my
knee, the despair of lost friends but
then I see the sun.

I see its shine on the snow...rays
glazing themselves over a season
come and gone. Another quarter
year past, but I see more change than
that of the seasons.

Something, indeed, has changed in
me.

You cut like raw glass
against smooth skin on
a dry day: bitterly, with such
sharp precision it pulses
with the blood that spills out
my wound.

Safe in the belly of your beholder,
you spare nothing but hurt
and demand nothing of anyone,
but least off, yourself.

You complicated *****; you
horrible fiend: there's little that's
worse than words scorched
with your name.

I hate reading about diet attempts
and people pushing half-assed
remedies to fix an already fractured
view of reality that says fat is failure.

"Fat is ugly. Fat is wrong. Rolling
curves on any body screams lazy,
inadequate, unacceptable and
less."

Sometimes that toxic seed of thought
taints the soul resting in my ribcage.
It quakes the muscles entwined masterfully in my bones. It makes me feel hatred. For myself, not others.

It's easier to throw up your dinner than to push up your esteem. Besides, lying on a cold bathroom floor is more refreshing than any gym I've ever encountered.

I'm stronger than a stereotype. I'm stronger than another disorder. I'm stronger than I get credit for and than the people that push me down for who I am.