maybe

maybe i want to starve and binge and purge

maybe i want to be eternally numb

maybe it all makes me happy and the only problem is that everyone else around me tells me that it doesn’t

but maybe i actually am happy and they just can’t understand how


Tomorrow never comes

I know I shouldn’t, but I want to so I do And they’re playing tug-o-war in my mind, again And I feel as though I’m being torn in to two And I say, “tomorrow will be different” And “tomorrow I’ll get back on track”

And then tomorrow comes but tomorrow doesn’t come


My inadequacy, everywhere

I do everything bad

But I can destroy myself real good


Suffocated

by talk of calories and diets and weight loss.

And surrounded by walking skeletons who are

thin..

thin..

thinner than I.

It’s not fair that they can play, and I can’t. 

“Oh, but you can.”


“how did you get your scars?”

“no comment.”

how do you explain that to someone who can’t possibly understand? that shit gets so loud and crazy, and the only way to make it stop is to hurt yourself. because sometimes voices will tell you that you must. and because other times you choose to, just to distract yourself from all the noise. how do you explain that hurting yourself is your only way to be calm?

he wouldn’t get it.

SHE doesn’t even get it, “but why must you do it? what if you don’t?”

“i CAN’T not.”

“but why?”

“it terrifies me to even think about it. they can kill me. don’t you understand?”

“only if you let them. so what if you don’t?”

then i spend a lifetime being tortured. that’s what. and i end up completely losing my mind and killing myself just to get away from it all. that’s what.

that’s how i get my scars.