Stare- unwavering
Picking out all imperfections.
The mirrors opinions were harsh,
But my own thoughts were worse.
Stop myself from cringing at the reflection
Because what's staring back at me is not beauty, but pure pain
Vulnerability.
A stomach that's always too big,
Thighs that will always touch.
Eyes too small, and lips too thin.
I lost control when I tried my best to gain it.
Used the length of time since I had last ate to the calculate my worth, the longer I starved, the prettier I felt.
Learned quickly that the number on the scale controlled my happiness.
Memorized tips and tricks and obsessed over the calories.
Hid underneath baggy sweaters because I could never be good enough
Or pretty enough
Or happy enough.
A mix of shame, guilt, and pride when someone asked you if you'd lost weight.
I turned to starvation and purging for control,
loved them so much,
but all they wanted was to kill me.
And I fear that If given the chance,
I will still let them.
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