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
sleep
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.