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You're not supposed to whisper to yourself when you're around food.
It's one of the bad signs;
A warning sign flashing in black and white;
Aspiring to the old commitments.
Are you really trying not to be fine?
I guess you're thinking that it's bad enough already,
So you may as well extend it,
No one is even going to notice.
When they do you'll have been through so much
That they are going to applaud you.
That's a sick thought,
That's what you're thinking
But this poem is you addressing yourself.
See, you're aware of what you're doing.
All the things we do,
For illness,
To make ourselves worse;
It fuels the pain,
But we know we're just going back again.

What's the use?
Why not lose when there's
Nothing left
To win?
We give in,
Just so that this nothingness can win.

It's fine,
You're going to survive,
But do you completely want to?
Maybe you can't decide,
So instead you hide it inside.

You're told to get better,
But what does that mean?
It means you stop acting,
You get over it eventually.
Really?
Maybe if you're careful;
Find a way to fix yourself;
Make sure you don't break again.

Now move forward,
It's been a few years,
That's what everyone thinks.
You're all good now,
Even you believe,
At last you can do anything
-except what you were doing,
That is.
Avoid it like the plague,
To try to stay safe,
Although really you try creeping back,
Just to catch a glimpse of something
You know you shouldn't be looking at.

Then you wonder
About sending yourself back:
To the days in Hell,
The fight for escape,
Waiting for it to be over,
To be left alone.
**** the actions first,
Then learn how to cope
Without what you were destroying yourself with.

You're fine for now,
At least you guess you are,
Only you're surrounded by sorrow,
The misery with bouts of
Alright, just great.
But darkness lurks around the corner,
So will you follow,
Or do what you're supposed to be continuing with?

You want control,
Part of you wants to feel something,
Other than these emotions,
To stop hearing these thoughts,
And press stop on the memories,
Because with the present it hurts you,
Damaging - like what doesn't exist.

One time, go on:
Repeat like you used to,
What's the reason not to
When you just feel like you're lacking
Some of what you need?
And what is that?
The truth, surrender,
A cease to all this,
Someone else to leave?

You know it will push you somewhere,
Into a harsh reality
But one you hope that might be different,
From the one that pains you,
Even if you'll be guilty.
You'll have the satisfaction
Of finally
Doing something.
Again. You said never again,
But that wasn't true,
Did you even mean that?
You wonder as you retake
Your past baleful steps.

It doesn't own the same reasons
This time.
You just want to prove your
Destructive existence to yourself,
Even though you miss your
Dissociation from reality.
Maybe because if you do it,
It means you're not one hundred percent,
Just don't let anyone know,
Why should it harm anyone,
Except you because that's the whole issue?

It's okay though,
You've figured it out,
Like you always knew,
You were only kidding yourself,
You know you'd have to live
With the unhelpful effects,
It doesn't need to be any harder,
Than it already is.
I recite the thoughts I pray,
I do so everyday,
Just because I like to think
The others will go away.

I thank the Lord for being healthy,
For my body being capable,
I'm pleased that my system's stable.

This is so the fever of my mind,
Won't persist through till mornings light.

I guess it works every time.
You see I might have caught a glimpse,
Of this girl who was called Mia,
She didn't stay too long though;
They said she was sickness,
And I had to be better.

But sometimes I hear her calling,
Most of the time she's silent,
Although she kindly likes to visit.
She likes to play this game
Of thoughts,
But I know that I'm winning.
She wants me to join her team,
Apparently I can't make up my mind,
Or at least that's as it seems.

I thank the Lord for my good health,
And it's bad to contradict,
When I recite my blessings I remember,
This means I cannot make myself sick.

So next time Mia joins me,
For just a little bit,
I remind her of what I know is right,
Even if she doesn't like it.
I tell myself to remain my state of mind:
That I can't go back there
Not just 'one more time'.

Have you seen this girl called Mia?
If you do, please walk away.
I know that she will beg you,
Tell you she wants to stay.
After a while, you'll have taken the time to see,
That this girl called Mia,
Is not actually all that pretty.
It is still haunting me
Refusing to leave
Wanting me to give in
Yet I am too proud to do so
Which just tricks me into
Slavery of feeling like I should
Which rabbit hole will I fall down
This time?
What way am I willing to go?

— The End —