“ana, anorexia.”

trigger warning : eating disorder & violence 

after subsequent hours of not filling my stomach with anything while trying to regurgitate everything i could inside me by inserting my index finger up to my throat. 

i stare at the mirror as i impassively ask myself, am i enough now to be anyone’s doll? 

i had been spending ages listening to this uncanny voice inside my head wailing dreadful things as for i need to be “that” skinny for everyone else’s pretty little satisfactions.

was it ever my fault? didn’t i scorn it off enough for it to certainly leave my dreaded soul?

honey, it would be egoistic for me to tell you that i endeavored everything i could, but i did. 

tell me now, is there a way i could fit into the tiniest gown? sorry, i thought starving myself to death would be enough. 

the fear of gaining kilos has reverberated through me. how could i ever stop growing? does anyone know the solution to my numbing pain? 

never found the way to be sickly thin, so i’ll continue to search for it as i belligerently point this .50 to my anorexic head. 

now that you refused to leave, i’ll do it myself.