All this time it was a diseased friend
controlling her heart and mind,
tearing her skin until it was those
pearly white bones that showed,
promising to bandage all those
bloody scars, while cutting deeper
into the core of her famished heart.
And it sang and sang the song of
pain, feeding on the bits of flesh she had
left, burning her troubled eyes in those
insecure mirrors, and wearing her thin
under the covers of the night just to be
left waiting on the midnight floor
next the torturous scale, unfed, and
bleeding out in scarlet tears because
she desperately wants her life to
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As the Eating Disorder Ate
PoetryAs the eating disorder ate, she slowly began to die