I look at myself in the mirror,
My eyes showing one thousand shattered reflections.
I weigh 115,
My hips are starting to show.
My doctors say I’m healthy,
But I’m not.
I want to, no, I need to reach 100.
My body needs to be a corset of skin and bone too big for me.
It needs to protrude at the hips and collars in order for me to be beautiful.
I’m waiting for the gap between my thighs that will make me perfect.
People try to tell me I’m sick,
But I’m not.
I am strong.
Filled with control as I release my hunger and pain through the blood
Pouring from my wrists.
The smiles I wear in photographs are the knife-like reminders of when I was a
Failure.
The whispered words in hallways and behind closed doors saying,
“When will she die?”
Little do they know I’m already dead where it matters most,
On the inside.
2 comments
“Little do they know I’m already dead where it matters most”
You are not dead, your soul is just Dreaming.
kuzgun; never thought of it thta way.