Life is a game
and I’m in last place.
I move up a space
then get sent back three.
A smile a day
will keep the questions away.
My smiles hide secrets
of pain, lie’s, and cries.
Sometimes I refuse to eat
food isn’t something enjoyable to me.
I starve either as
punishment or beauty.
You think seeing my bones pop out
is disgusting but
I see it the opposite way
I know it’s wrong.
Wrists and thighs’
Here are my wounds
Cuts and scratches
but I keep them hidden.
I may get help
but I will never be fixed.
I may starve and self-harm
but I will never stop.
I know it’s wrong
but I will still do it.
So I will cheat on this game
and cut to the finish line.
