My body craves it, but my mind doesn't.
Next thing you know, the bite goes down my throat.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You're a disappointment."
"You'll never reach your dreams."
"Why don't you just eat less?"
The devil on my shoulder says.

It's not easy. It's never enough. IM never enough.

"Didn't you just eat? You're eating again? "
"Why don't you eat? You've ate nothing but gum.."
"Hey, you look a little glum are you okay?"
"I miss her so much. I had just talked to her yesterday."

When she smiles and laughs,
It no longer sounds hollow,
For she has learned
To mask her sorrow.
She's so uncertain
Of why she is sad.
Her life is fine now.
Why does it hurt so bad?
Tears won't fall.
She forgot how to cry.
Most of the time
She just wants to die.
She's obsessed with this concept
That skinny is perfect.
She pukes if she eats
Just trying to feel worth it.
She looks in the mirror
And hates what she sees.
She slices her skin
Screaming, "I don't wanna be me!"
But by tomorrow
No one will know
She'll smile and laugh.
The scars won't show.
They think she is better.
They couldn't be more wrong.
She plays the part well.
They think she is strong.
Now and again
Someone sees past her mask.
They study her face
And quietly ask.
She looks back smiling
And she says, "I'm fine,"
But the sad truth is
She always lies.

i see a mass standing in front of the mirror—
a human, perhaps.
i can't call her a girl.
she doesn't have the attributes—
enough to be called all that.

it's a reflection,
undeterred,
simply wretched.

there are marks on the mirror—
proof it hasn't been cleaned.
i wonder if they're on my body too.
i hope the glass has enough cracks
to hide and tell
how it feels every time
i discover the same wrecked look
staring back.

the skin is loose
around a few different hooks,
feels like it's sagging—
i pull so hard,
hoping i'll tear through.

i feel nothing but pain
for her,
hidden beneath all that disgust—
the turmoil i'll put her in,
the self-hatred.

and to think—
she’s just become
a black mass
of everything and nothing.

a loathsome, foolish little being
that can’t fit,
can’t talk,
can’t sit.

she’s not the ideal.
and sometimes i think
her existence
isn’t for the world even—

she’s just a scandal.

beauty is pain
that's what they tell the young girls
that looks matter more
than comfort

caked on makeup
that weighs your face down
tight clothes
that show off your body
but restricting your lungs
starving and counting calories
just to achieve the hourglass figure
plastic surgery and botox
just to meet the beauty standards

they go through all this pain
and suffering
just to reach the ideal image
that changes so quickly
so you can't keep up
and are constantly adjusting theirselves
trying to feel beautiful

but what they don't realize
is that no matter how much you try
to fit in
it will never be enough

beauty is what you make it
be comfortable in your own skin
wear what makes you feel good
eat when hungry
starving makes you feel worse

there is light at the end of the tunnel
i promise

these models in magazines and billboards
set unrealistic expectations for young girls
thinking they need to starve themselves
just to get the flat stomach
and hourglass figure
envying every girl they see
who they view as prettier than them
going to such extremes to fit the rapidly
changing beauty standards
leaving their youthful bodies behind
to go under the knife
and inject their face with fillers
just to be called beautiful
to feel beautiful
but then the standards change
and they don't feel beautiful anymore
they do more procedures
and exercise until they drop
until the standards are to be natural
and it feels like it was all for nothing
that they'll never be enough

i feel like i'm chasing a body
that i'll never reach
every time i feel like it's in my grasp
it slips through my fingers
hunger pangs is my new normal
skipping meals and snacks
filling up on water
as not to gain weight
losing weight is all i can think about
i never have seemed to love my body
always thinking about how i look
i compare myself to everyone
and i never achieve what they seem
to have so easily
once i lose weight
it always comes back
i can't keep it off
you can tell me thousands of times
that i'm not fat or that i look nice
but your compliments will fall on deaf ears
my body has felt big since a little kid
even when i was malnourished
i saw obesity
i'll never love myself

It's Wednesday.
A flicker of nerves runs through me.
What will it say today?
The machine that holds half my worth.

I worked out four times last week.

But you skipped a day—two weeks ago.

I've been eating 1200 calories.

Have you?
What about the late-night snacks at 10 PM?
What about the weekends?

The scale will see.
It won’t lie.

I get on, and immediately, I hate myself.
A 2.5-pound weight gain in 14 days
I want to starve
I want slit my wrists
See if it teaches me a lesson:
Eat less,
Work harder,
Harder,
HARDER

The scale mocks me.
I hate it so much,
But I can’t stop.
It’s an addiction.
Tell me—
What will you show me in seven days?
Will I finally be enough then?