Laying on my back is my favorite position.
It shows my hipbones; my mark of the present and its shortcomings.
It shows a sunken in stomach; gravitated towards the floor to show the pressure of my future successes.
It shows the detailed outline of my ribs; scafolding out like a garden, ripe with lively flowers for the Grim Reapers picking.
He's able to touch those vibrant flowers, and turn them into a wilting waste. The bright blues will be replaced with a dull grey.
Laying down is my favorite position.
It's how I will lay in my coffin when the Grim Reaper realizes that those flowers are not enough--now, he wants me. The most delicate flower of all.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Eat.
Teen FictionDon't eat. I shouldn't. I don't need to. It'll lead me away from perfection and why would I want that? All I have to do is not eat and then I'll be that perfect Barbie that I've always wanted to be. That's not hard to do so why not? What's the worst...
