I have only gotten a taste of my girl's darkest edges a handful of times. And oh do I cherish those moments. Oh how I love them. How I would spill the blackest ink upon a thousand of the purest souls just to merge with her again. To feel her clutch what slowly has begun to become my head. To hear her thoughts come barreling into mine. To hear her purest screams of hatred become my own. Until neither of us knows who is who. Until we both would do anything to just make it end. But we don't truly want the moment to end now, do we? No, we don't. Even my girl knows she loves it. Because it is these, they are the purest moments of our existence. Even when we plug our noses and smother our mouths. Even when we can't hold it any longer, and we come back coughing our lungs dry. Even when we eye the scissors' blade. Even when we plunge our fingers down our throat, knowing we don't have the strength to shove it down far enough. Even when we wish to only die. We know we love it anyway.
-Aria/My girl
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Entries of Aria
Non-FictionA series of 'diary' entries from different aspects of anorexia, some inanimate beings being portrayed as characters. This was a tool used to stick to anorexic tendencies. Other people have more control over you than you do. So when pretending tha...
