I begin to assemble what weapons I can find
'Cause sometimes to stay alive you got to **** your mind

She motioned the outline of an hourglass, a particularly curvy one
And said, "you're supposed to look like this"
And I thought to myself, *that way of thinking is just the problem

Ive met many cool people on here and they've all been accepting but the two that have really stood out and been there for me is my friend storm and my friend olivia. Although storm and I don't talk much he/she is an awesome friend and I don't know where id be without him. As for Olivia although we don't talk anymore she was always there cheering me on and helping me out with my poetry. I miss her a lot and I wish we could still be friends but due to circumstances she couldn't and that's okay because for the time being I have learned whay having true friendships really mean. As well as being fully accepted. Everyone has never made me feel bad about my writing or who I am. So thank you all especially my two friends

I can't take this anymore . People recently don't know about my past ... This is a new place for me . They see old photos and say "wow you used to be skinny" all I could think about is what I did to look that way. They don't understand how trigger just a little comment like that can be. I miss being thin. I miss starving. I miss purging. I miss the feeling of being empty, frail, small. I miss the pain in my gut after days of no food. I miss the ache in my head before I finally fall . I want to go back

Dear god of uncertainty,
It was 7:30 p.m. on january fifth when she got the call that said she needed to come in for some more tests to see if the results were true. Her hands trembled as I watched her blink back tears because no one wants to be told their very own woven cells are killing them. That the body that has become this strong tower is finally leaning about to completely tip to become nothing but a pebble in the lives of so few. Two weeks ago, I thought for sure I hated her said if she died that I wouldnt care but now I'm the one begging for the results to say those lesions that have been attached to her like a leech are not cancerous..
Dear god of uncertainty, minutes feel like hours and days feel like years, and I don't think I want to spend these days counting time because eventually it will slip like the sand from the hourglass flowing through my fingers and making its trail upon chemo treatmenTs and big worded surgeries. the whispers are getting louder the louder they get the more frightened I am that her body will slowly shrink. As if when I blink she will disappear into thin air engulfed by the thing that may in fact be killing her.  Being female your suppose to have working body parts, like ovaries, or ****** but hers is broken. And Ive watched him try to carry the weight of that burden but now its spread to his bones and its like a horror scene but yet no blood is smeared everywhere just dried tears and empty "this is all just a big misunderstanding" as if the doctors read the numbers backwards or the symbols weren't in order. I mean they could have put on the wrong prescription glasses right? I watch her to see if her poker face will break to show that I'm not the only one pulling handfuls of hair out.
Dear god of doctor bills, the wheels are turning inside mixing concoctions of thought processes together to figure out how we will pay for these ******* doctor bills that begin to pile and dig us a grave in this camping trailer we live in. they send mounds of prayers up to someone they hope is listening. Someone they hope isn't punishing them for every sin not washed clean. I cant help but wonder If I started to pray to this god they all believe in. The god of life itself that maybe, we could all let out a sigh... and pretend death isn't a possability. That its not this looming threat. Waiting to claim its victim's.....but dear god of uncertainty, you only **** in sets of two right?

If you've ever stayed up until 4 am,
you're either lonely or in love.
And I don't know which one is worse anymore.