it's not tragic..

half of me is here,

I always feel

watch as I disappear

as I sabotage my nutrition

Don't eat. 

there goes that voice again

my lover daring me to gain

a fucking pound

she won't be happy 'til I'm underground

the end of her will be the death of me

and I want her to win

wear me so thin

it ends my existence

it won't make a difference

I don't feel like I'm living

all I do is repeat

wake up


And don't you dare eat in-between.

do you all hear my lovely?

I want to stop dreading mornings

I want to stop pouring myself into toilets

I want to end. 

and I can't share that with anyone

I did once

they sent me to a mental hospital

that sucks at it's role

they don't know what it's like to be alone

depression, they've never held

so how could they possibly help

something they don't understand?

they can't

so I hope they shut it down

and I hope some day Mia isn't around

but how can I say that

when I'm in love?

why is my obsession what I've lost, not won?

always my failures, never my successes

that sort of thinking I feel was implented in my raising

every bite is misbehaving

she's had plenty others

I've heard the stories

I know my lover

yet I can't leave

I'll never see she's killing me

until the deed is done.

Maybe that day you'll weigh enough.

This poem is about: 


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