Wednesday 22 June 2016

Through the Looking Glass

She presses her cold, white palms against the glass. 
She is always outside looking in. 
She strains to hear their voices
Watching their mouths move as they whisper
Words that break her heart.  
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(Source: www.desktopnexus.com)

She is so frustrating,
So stubborn.
She used to smile all the time.
She changed.
Now she cries all the time.
She won't eat.
She's too tired to do anything anyway.

She is a hollow version of who she once was,
The carefree girl that anorexia stole away.
A tear slides slowly down the glass.
Her vision blurry,
She can't stand to listen anymore,
To watch them go on without her. 
Bonding over something 
She is no longer a part of. 
She carefully tiptoes away,
To a place where she won't be seen,
Or even missed.

She feels her heart sink.
So sad and alone.
She hears them laughing now,
They are happy when she isn't there 
To ruin the atmosphere,
With her sickness.

Anorexia has left her on the outside of the glass. 
No longer a participant in their world.
Trapped inside this sick game
That she never asked to play.
No one warned her that counting calories
Would lead to this,
Anorexia played her with her lies. 

They let her inside somedays.
And when she is brave,
She can plaster on a smile,
Laugh and dance with the rest of them
On the other side. 

They let her inside sometimes.
Until they remember. 
Until they push food in front of her,
And she glances quickly away,
Frightened that her fragile composure 
Will fall apart in front of them once again. 

I am this little girl,
Every memory marred by anorexia.
I am every girl who knows how it feels,
To be left behind,
An afterthought. 

I remember the toilet bowls
I purged in on every vacation.
I remember ordering room service
When the coast was clear.
I remember feeling the panic rise in my chest,
As I once again pretended to be okay,
Eating nachos on the beach,
Sipping my sugary margarita.

I was never okay though.
I was always thinking,
Obsessing over the food in my stomach.
Cringing at my thighs against the sand.
I remember quickly sneaking away,
Trying for nonchalance toward the bathrooms,
Where I could purge the guilt,
The anxiety,
And the shame.

I can't make eye contact.
I smile and pretend.
I secretly long to be free.
I secretly wish someone
Would see my pain,
The depth of it,
Under my carefully constructed
Suit of armour.

I am this sad little girl crying out..
Please take this anxiety away.
I want to be free like you.
I want the glass to shatter
Into a million sharp edged pieces,
So that I may never cross to that place again. 

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