i'm scratching at my arms. there's pressure in my chest and i can't breathe.
i'm tearing at the flesh of my thighs, my hips, my stomach. tearing it all off until there's nothing left but skin and bone. i'm tearing and i can't breathe.
i look around me. everywhere my eyes fall i see girls, thin and happy, walking down the street, driving their cars, living their lives with a sense of purpose. i'm looking and i can't breathe.
my father is telling me to eat. my mother is crying. my friends are walking away because they can no longer deal with someone as fucked up as me. they're walking away and i can't fucking breathe.
my nails are digging into my skin. there's blood trickling down my arms in crimson streams, dripping from my elbows to the floor like raindrops. i stand and the world spins for a moment. a table appears in front of me, an array of food spread out upon it. apples and burgers and chips. chocolate cake, roast beef, pasta and mashed potatoes. everything you could ever imagine.
my legs are trembling.
my hand is reaching for the food when the smell of it hits me and i flinch. on a sudden impulse i push the table away and the food falls onto the floor in a giant heap.
i feel sick.
how many days has it been?
am i counting days or weeks now?
i can feel my heartbeat echoing through my bones. i manage to stand again and i slowly walk towards the mirror. i see my reflection, my raw and naked body. there is no more fat and i start to cry and i can finally breathe.
others may look at me and see a skeleton, a walking corpse. but i am the thinnest girl i have ever seen and i can breathe.
i can breathe and i am lovely.
