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  Mar 30 Bekah
Emily Ward
Anorexia is not collar bones.
It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit.
Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground.

Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness.

Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying
Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders.
A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground.
No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real.
So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act.
Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction.
- *Emily Ward
I wrote this when i was in a unit recovering from anorexia. The main reason for it was to highlight to people who are pro anorexia, the real and disabling effects of this illness. To highlight that it is not a fashion statement or a 'fad' diet.
Bekah Jan 18
Built off the backs
Of migrant slaves
The American Dream
Is what they claim
A place where women
No longer choose
Instead it’s men
In flashy suits
The rich get richer
While neighbors starve
Injustice cuts deep
Leaving us marred
Though a dream,
A nightmare too
America The Great
Red, white, and blue
Reposting because my profile was glitching when it was originally posted.
Bekah Jan 13
At night the thoughts linger
Like poison in my mind
Maybe one day I’ll be enough
But I don’t think it’s tonight
Bekah Jan 6
The weight of my sadness
Is heavy like clouds before rain
I’m only self medicating
To try to numb the pain
Antidote coursing through me
Like toxins in my veins
  Jan 2 Bekah
Nemusa
The child moves,
blindfolded,
stumbling through the trembling air,
Hands grazing the rough bark of trees, the cool breath of stone.
Laughter rises, thin as thread, spinning through the dark—
A thread they cannot follow,
only pull,
only pull,
Until the world dissolves,
and home is only a memory of warmth.
Bekah Jan 1
I’m good at shooting pain
So burn me alive like the sun
My fate is inked in a darkness
I’ll never be able to outrun
Bekah Dec 2024
Here lately I haven’t been writing
And I’ve been staying in my room
Human interaction is a struggle
So I put on my best costume

It comes with a fake smile
And covers the dark circles around my eyes
I’ve become a master of the art
Of hiding my own demise

My therapist tells me I’ll get better
That I just need to give it time
But nobody understands the torture
Of being trapped inside my mind

My mental health is in shambles,
My anxiety always on edge
I’m finding it harder and harder
Just to get up out of bed

My brain is meticulous
With every thought I think
It feels like I’ve tied a brick to my ankle
And all I can do is sink

The chains that have bound me
Are tightening their grip
I wonder how much time is left
Until I lose myself to the abyss
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