I’ve traded the “best years of my life” to this illness, it’s just not obvious since i’m not bones. I guess when you smile for miles each day, the world sees through the pain and groans. 

It’s enough to break you in half, although you wish you could just go. To be vulnerable in that way, physically rather than emotional. Because the words so innocently spoken, are like razors to your soul. But you cannot cry anymore, you just sit empty. A black hole. 

To scream to the world, i want to live. Contrary to the shadow that craves to die. The darkened eyes that cannot see, the shrunken heart that’s filled with lies. The 500 calories that grant you doom, the 200 calories that claim you huge. Insignificance is tough, but not as tough as being alive. 

Like climbing up a waterfall. A slimy drain crusted, puke and bile. It’s hard to hide behind acting skills, it’s hard to ride this life of hell. Too weak to run a million miles, merged bloated carcass of a rotting mind. You sprint despite the tired legs, you talk despite your poisoned mind.

A death like slow suffocation all alone. Prolonged failure in an empty tomb. Except, your not hidden and completely alone. You’re isolated by the thoughts that you call home. And slowly the air begins to thin. You’re breathing less but you’re still in. In this game of mental sanity. You’re insane and fighting barely. 

To want to eat until you cry. To want to starve until you die. The things once loved are nothing now. The feeling of peace is a myth, a lie. The world once beautiful is now black and white. The eyes that glistened are dull and blind. This world is wasted and so am i. Why do i even carry on? 

Too cowardly to live again. Too cowardly to end the world i’m in. Just aimlessly grasping for the love, that i cannot begin to again find. What feelings are even mine?

Optimism comes to save you, and you try to hug her tight. But the monster in the corner proves to you that he’ll bring the light. And so you ditch her for the darkness, that you mistook for the sun. You fear him, but he makes you numb. You run away and trip, but you’re dumb. To realize you can’t out run this time . Because the monster that you’re racing,  is actually yourself. 

I used to dream of a bright future, and now i dream of thin

back when i smiled at the thought of dinner, 

and tolerated the skin i lived in

but now i strive to be a winner

just not the kind that i’d known

because i only win when i shrink

and it’s hard to think of what i’ve become