A series of poems and random thoughts

This is me

I was five the first time I noticed the fat on my stomach.
"Baby fat" my mum called it.
I was seven when I saw that my thighs were bigger than the others'.
Ten when I started to work out to make it all go away.
Eleven when I had my first panic attack.
Twelve when I found a razor.
Twelve and two weeks when I used it.
I didn't shave.
Thirteen when I ate away my feelings.
Fourteen when I dieted away fat.
Fifteen when I became underweight.
Fifteen and a half when I got an eating disorder.
The same age when I told someone about my anxiety.
And the scars of the past won't ever go away.
And I'm done trying to mask my pain.
Because this is me.
And I can't hide that.
Keep reading if you're intrigued or have nothing else to do,
If not, it was nice knowing you.