I wake up to another horrible night[day]mare,
crawl out of bed and, avoiding the mirror
for fear that it will crack right down the middle,
grab the hairbrush and run it through by memory.
I get dressed in loose clothing, never something
tight that would cling to my body [who would want
to see all the fat there anyway?], no make-up [there's
no help for your face] and run out the door [skip food
for your own good].
Rarely do I ever want to eat [it would go straight to
your stomach or ass and add to what's there!] so I run
on what energy exists till I feel my stomach complain
that I have to eat something or I will pass out.
I can't let the world know that I attempt to starve
myself of any food because they will get mad [{you
better eat or I'm going to be very angry with you!}]
says one of them. Not many know my secret obsession.
I wish only to be beautiful, to be skinny, to feel
comfortable with my body [like that will ever happen!]
and wear those pretty clothes that only look good
on the picture-perfect body that society holds high.
Expectations I hold that I will never achieve,
of being perfect in every way attainable; beautiful,
intelligent, small and skinny, have the perfect
body that is touchable, and confidence in myself.
It will never happen ... The image of stepping onto
a scale and it breaking under my weight or reading
an error because of the heaviness is all too real
in my mind ... so much for perfection.
I push myself to the limit and beyond in hopes that
I may finally reach any one of my goals or die trying.
It's not like anyone would notice [hey, where did
that fat girl go? Haven't seen her lately].
Limitation reached, I die of exhaustion, fall asleep
in my bed after taking enough medication to
tranquilize a cow [you mean yourself?] in hopes
that maybe I won't wake up in the morning again.
And still, I pray before I close my eyes to drift off
to dream-land that maybe, just maybe, I will be
able to either achieve my goal of perfection ... And,
if for some reason I do not, please don't let me wake up.
I don't wish to see my face in the cracked mirror,
picking out things I don't like about myself, being
a disgraceful excuse for a female in today's society
of high expectations, not to mention overly fat.
I don't wish to picture the scale breaking as I
step upon it, knowing very well I am going to hate
the numbers I see appear [you should expect that
by now, stupid!] and the tears threatening to fall.
I don't wish to fall asleep, drugged by my own self,
taking enough to tranquilize a large animal and
praying not to wake up, or crying myself to sleep
on a drenched pillow of my own saltwater tears.
I only wish to be pretty in my own standards
and, even though I know it will never be likely that
I see the day where I tell myself that I am beautiful ...
I still continue to wish, dream, pray, and push.
.
.
.
.
Goodnight. <3
[[ The things in brackets [...] <--- those ... they are the comments I make to myself in the back of my mind usually on the daily bases. This is very true; personal on every level and it continues every day, has been since I was about 14 or 15 ]]
crawl out of bed and, avoiding the mirror
for fear that it will crack right down the middle,
grab the hairbrush and run it through by memory.
I get dressed in loose clothing, never something
tight that would cling to my body [who would want
to see all the fat there anyway?], no make-up [there's
no help for your face] and run out the door [skip food
for your own good].
Rarely do I ever want to eat [it would go straight to
your stomach or ass and add to what's there!] so I run
on what energy exists till I feel my stomach complain
that I have to eat something or I will pass out.
I can't let the world know that I attempt to starve
myself of any food because they will get mad [{you
better eat or I'm going to be very angry with you!}]
says one of them. Not many know my secret obsession.
I wish only to be beautiful, to be skinny, to feel
comfortable with my body [like that will ever happen!]
and wear those pretty clothes that only look good
on the picture-perfect body that society holds high.
Expectations I hold that I will never achieve,
of being perfect in every way attainable; beautiful,
intelligent, small and skinny, have the perfect
body that is touchable, and confidence in myself.
It will never happen ... The image of stepping onto
a scale and it breaking under my weight or reading
an error because of the heaviness is all too real
in my mind ... so much for perfection.
I push myself to the limit and beyond in hopes that
I may finally reach any one of my goals or die trying.
It's not like anyone would notice [hey, where did
that fat girl go? Haven't seen her lately].
Limitation reached, I die of exhaustion, fall asleep
in my bed after taking enough medication to
tranquilize a cow [you mean yourself?] in hopes
that maybe I won't wake up in the morning again.
And still, I pray before I close my eyes to drift off
to dream-land that maybe, just maybe, I will be
able to either achieve my goal of perfection ... And,
if for some reason I do not, please don't let me wake up.
I don't wish to see my face in the cracked mirror,
picking out things I don't like about myself, being
a disgraceful excuse for a female in today's society
of high expectations, not to mention overly fat.
I don't wish to picture the scale breaking as I
step upon it, knowing very well I am going to hate
the numbers I see appear [you should expect that
by now, stupid!] and the tears threatening to fall.
I don't wish to fall asleep, drugged by my own self,
taking enough to tranquilize a large animal and
praying not to wake up, or crying myself to sleep
on a drenched pillow of my own saltwater tears.
I only wish to be pretty in my own standards
and, even though I know it will never be likely that
I see the day where I tell myself that I am beautiful ...
I still continue to wish, dream, pray, and push.
.
.
.
.
Goodnight. <3
[[ The things in brackets [...] <--- those ... they are the comments I make to myself in the back of my mind usually on the daily bases. This is very true; personal on every level and it continues every day, has been since I was about 14 or 15 ]]
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