I used to pray.
I used to pray that when I woke, my skin would be clear of imperfections.
Clear of freckles, clear of bumps
I hated being different, noticed, ugly.
It's hard not to want to be in your own skin.
It's hard not acquiring self-love.
It's hard hating yourself more than anyone.
I face an Eating Disorder.
ED stares me in the eyes, grinning.
Laughing at my struggles and praising the hunger.
He is a part of me and I am a part of him.
I try to push away but his grip only tightens.
I feel lost. Strangled
Darkness surrounds me and I gasp for air, but only water fills my lungs.
It's suffocating and I can't breathe.
They try to bring light me and help me see the incredible human being I am.
But ED whispers "they're only lying".
Being flawless is impossible.
I should know, I am a perfectionist.
But fuck perfection.
Embrace your flaws and love yourself.
Because you're perfectly imperfect.