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Literature Text
I want to go home
But I don’t know where you are right now.
All that’s left is the vision of your ghosts
On the prowl for my innocence.
Darling, your appearance
Is being washed away by the dirt and the rain
The face and the name is
Going away again.
The dirt and rain fall down and
Your heart slowly fades into
The darkness of how empty we became
On this road, paved
With your blame.
But I don’t know where you are right now.
All that’s left is the vision of your ghosts
On the prowl for my innocence.
Darling, your appearance
Is being washed away by the dirt and the rain
The face and the name is
Going away again.
The dirt and rain fall down and
Your heart slowly fades into
The darkness of how empty we became
On this road, paved
With your blame.
Literature
AnOreXiA
Cradling you,
Limp in my arms,
Bones, and yellow skin,
Poking in to me,
I beg of you,
Eat.
The sight of food,
You vomit up blood,
All over me.
I do not care,
I will not leave.
Your hairs falling out,
Stringy and weak,
I hold it in my fingers,
Shaking,
Crying with you.
I wont let you die,
You can do this no more,
I look in those eyes,
So gray, loss of life,
You bruise so easily,
As i carry you to bathe,
Its like carrying a dead baby,
And laying it in its grave,
But you are not yet dead,
Food you shall eat,
Once so beautiful,
Weight will not be your defeat.
Anorexia may own you,
Your mind your heart your soul,
But
Literature
Bulimia
Shove your finger down your throat
Watch yourself explode
As your insides turn against you
And come out
Watch them splatter in the sink
As your own guilt weighs upon you
Begs you to stop
But you ignore it's pleads
You're in too far to quit now
You've worked too hard to quit now
You're too close to being beautiful to quit now
This is the closest you have ever been
You can almost feel the victory within you
Soon others will finally see you,
Will finally know that you exist,
Will finally have to accept you as you are
But little do you know
That the finger that you use
Is the trigger to the gun
That ends you life
Literature
On Bulimia.
The urge to purge has been strong and violent.
I don't purge anymore. I have on very rare occasion during fits of insane stress, but I avoid it at all costs. It's one behavior that I have tried to beat out of myself. I think about my delicate teeth and weak stomach, which bear witness to the self-destructive years of childhood robo-barfing. I think about the act of intentionally putting my face where other people crap, and how inherently disgusting that is.
I know it's horrid.
The thought, however, remains. What goes in can come back out. What makes you fat can be eradicated. What frightens you can be removed.
It's tempting at times.
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Bleh. I don't like it.
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I do. Powerful stuff..