I don't have an eating disorder
But
I eat one meal a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
I cant eat more than 700 calories a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
I have to skateboard at least 5 hours a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
If I don't know how many calories is in something I can't eat it

i can’t control
when people leave.

i can’t control
whether he’ll love me.

i can’t control
who lives or dies.

i can’t control
their opinions.

i can’t control.

but I can control my body.

I can control my calories.

I can decide when to stop.

I can decide whether I live or die.

I am the only one
who has that control.

I am surprised that you relate.
I thought you would have gotten into this a different way,
But here we are,
With similar origins,
And familiar pains.
Here we are,
Sharing our aches.
Here we are,
Feeling empty and drained.
Here we are,
Giving each other praise.
Here we are,
Feeling shame.
Here we are,
Being brave.
Here we are,
And we are to stay.
I thought you were not anywhere near the same.
I am surprised that you relate.

Today I saw you
For the first time in 10 days
I was filled with nerves and anxiety
But also peace and a lightness
Its hard to explain
Much like our relationship
But you asked the question
That i guess had been playing on your mind
For 10 days
I was almost had peace with it
Which is more then i had been in months
How is your eating
You asked
And i didnt lie
I answered,every day apart from 2
But the 2 werent together
And it was easy
But i knew the question would come
I knew you would look and see
If i had lost
Or if i had gained
And i dont know how to tell you that i only reason i didnt give in,
Is because i didnt want to **** up
Bacuse you werent there
I didn't have you to hide behind
And cover for me
Which i know you do
Because it was all on me.
But now i can feel the old ways talking again
So how do i tell you that im so far from okay
But happy i can fool you now

I saw what the world wanted me to be
I saw the projections  and figures everywhere
I saw the expectations, the social constructs
the suggestions, the insistence
and then
i stopped looking
I took away the mirror and let it fall to the floor
a million pieces
I invited my seven years of bad luck
so I could stop looking.
I looked within myself instead.
I stood on the edge of the mountain, where society wanted to push me over the edge
I stood on the edge of the ocean, where it wanted the waves to drown me
I clung to the earth, where it's winds and currents would rather have me swept away.
I stood there and I screamed.
I bellowed into the deepest valley, and across the sea
I wanted every ear to feel the sound
I howled until my lungs felt free
" E N O U G H "
rejecting the false image pushed upon me
I looked within myself and found the universe when the earth wanted to swallow me whole.
My reflection belongs to me,
this world cannot contain me
but it tried to own me
Self liberated
from imposed shackles.

One of the hardest parts to hide
Is when people ask how I did it,
"Oh you look so great!
How did you do it?"
How do I explain that after dropping 25kgs,
That the way I did it, is not safe.
The I only eating when its been 3 days,
And I'm starting to get to dizzy
And I can't even think when it comes to work.
How do I explain that I have a war going on inside my head
That I told her, and it helped
But almost made it worse
Now I'm lying to her
I tell her I'm eating,
Even when I've lost another 2kgs
I'll tell her I'm fine,
That I'm doing okay
Just as long as she doesn't see my hands shaking
I'll hide my body under over sized tops
And I'll doing my make up just right
So she can't see how tired I really am
For now I'll hide
Because I'm not ready to give Anna up yet.

a suicidal soul.
a lost soul.
a hopeless soul.
a dumb soul.
a useless soul.
a forgotten soul.
why would heaven want this soul?

i tell myself pounds will shed like
water:
clear,
smooth,
painless.

no such luck.

i tell myself the scars will come out
pretty:
straight,
silver,
painless.

no such luck.

the shedding of so much self
is like a death,
or grieving for a death:
messy,
spiralling,
non-linear,
and painful.

so too the scars
and burns:
with time they bump
and mound,
grow jagged,
and distort,
monsters grown from wounds
that gaped like mouths
to scream out
"pain"
then sealed themselves in silence
because I could not speak
before or
after.

after.

how often i hoped for the end of
after.

but no such luck.

bones that show.
scars out proud.
ulcerated stomach.
a slow heart.

I’ve flipped dead channels:
distraction hides the hunger.
but there’s no way to **** this enemy
or keep from going under.

perfection
is Kate Moss,
and ****** chic.
circles under vacant eyes,
thirsting yet asleep.

those vacant eyes aren’t empty.
they’re scared.
and hurt.
who told us we’d be beautiful,
under six feet of dirt?

for all those loved and lost to this:
perfection is the poem "fat,"
and fighting,
hard.

I live life on the end of a yo-yo string.

One moment high in the sky,
My strings neatly wrapped away where they can’t get tangled, where they can’t get beaten and battered and torn by open air,

The next moment spinning so fast I can’t tell what’s real, toes brushing puddles I come closer to with every swing, strings on display for the world to see until I can find it in me to wrap it all up again.
And I know that one day my strings will wear thin, they will snap, and I will sink.

One day, when I go down, I will not come back up.