What Its Like With Eating Disorders

acid plant

I haven't been able to get my thoughts down in a long while. I hope its okay and makes sense thank you.

My silent hatred drips inside my stomach watering a seed of doubt and distrust with the kind of acid that burns you, numbs you. You sit there not in fear but in a calm sort of regret and sorrow and a middle full of sloshing sins that travel like tears, like poisoness slugs up your throat and out your sockets. Trying to let go they start to slide away.. but any root of self love or improvement any chance of flurishing, refreshing, reforming is torn from your center, disconnected to yourself. I'm not me, was I ever. My eyes feel dry and droopy, my body aches, my face a frown. I cover that basin of acid with a tarp so no one sees the flowerless plant growing in the goop within me.
I seek no more hunger, I revel in the past of my small empty body, envying her, sometimes I long to remember the forgotten ache of that burning acid eating me away. The kind of bland emptiness on your tongue, the way it was hard to swallow. Yes the sick part of me misses it.

In this one I'm talking about confrontation of what is keeping grounded but not rooted. The thing that makes me suffer. I speak about it without mentioning what it is, because there's a lot. The basin of acid is myself and the tarp are the baggy clothes I wear.