ill keep starving myself

ever since i was a little girl i knew i was too much, genetically predisposed to have an ache & empty hollow hole never filled. human life doesn’t provide the proper conditions needed for my survival, i knew i always wanted one thing. it was control. chronically misunderstood.

i’ve always been a control freak. particular. breathing down necks & raising cortisol levels through emotional coercion whether i realized it or not. the idea of not being able to control a situation i was in, be the leader, or have things go my way was a fear more petrifying than the unknown. that was the unknown.

being in control is the best high.

feeding the loop makes me feel true and pure.

i don’t really know what i’m looking at in the mirror, a weird distorted image and amalgamation of whatever thing is staring back at me. i don’t remember a lot of my childhood, but i still feel those hands on me. scrubbing it away never really washes the feeling away. never has. that’s fine.

i’ve tried being the leader in my relationships, drives them away. that’s okay.

my years of doing drugs aren’t something i necessarily long for. a lot of my best ideas came from my benders, to which ive long forgotten by now. its all watered down now that im sober.

drinking is a good numbing agent, i just don’t like hangxiety the next day. hair of the dog is a fix that feeds into a tangled loop that will inevitably create a vicious cycle. i guess you could say the same thing about my eating disorder for the last decade.

i’ve tried bargaining with her, but she’s taken everything. she’ll promise you everything you want, slowly picking you apart like a hungry vulture.

my stomach hurts

selling your soul to the devil seemed worth it as long as i could chase these disillusioned dreams.

im so cold

it’s not a matter of if, its a matter of when.

why are my teeth loosening from my gums?

i feel like im performing. once you’re in, no goal will ever be satisfactory.

my hair is falling out

it all slipped through my fingers so easy, it all happened so fast, i cant free myself from this addiction.

why is he looking at me that way when i undress?

my body was a temple, i’ve lost my mind in here. every drop of blood, hair, and tear that falls off of me is a sacred act of staying true.

oh god, my heart is acting weird. im scared. it hurts.

i fucking hate you. if i could tear you apart and slash your throat, i would. your captive deserves to be set free.

my eyes feel like they’re going to pop out every time i stand up.

i’m hungry for air. there’s blood running down the walls.

i can’t think straight anymore. everything is a fog.

you tell me i look great while i lay in my cage, you haven’t seen me in 2 years. that was 80 pounds ago. your surface level praise only adds another padlock to this cell im trapped in.

my chest and ribs hurt so bad. everything aches.

i scratch the walls like an animal, i know im not beautiful. im not happy. im not sad. im just.

i haven’t been able to sleep in days. im so tired.

how can i live in the moment when half of my life has been a race to see how fast i can become an angel? my doctor was very matter-of-fact with me. there was that deranged little girl in me that took it as a compliment.

i’m so irritated. i have no friends.

i don’t need anybody. i’ll wind up disappointing everyone. even though its myself in disappointing in the end.

i haven’t had my period in 4 months.

i’ll dissipate into the wind, starve into nothing. i am nothing. i don’t want to be a memory. i just want to be.