Showing posts with label #anorexiahurts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #anorexiahurts. Show all posts

Sunday, 26 June 2016

Secrets.

I've lived my life telling little white lies,
The smaller pieces of the shameful one that has become my cross to bear. 
Every relationship I've had,
Has been coloured by the secrets that I keep. 

In blood soaked pointe shoes,
I move across the stage.
All you notice from your seats are the graceful movements I've performed a million times. 
That's all you are meant to see.  
You become entranced by the dancer on stage,
And l become entranced by the dance. 

I make a wish on every falling star. 
I scribble a prayer on random notebook pages, 
on scraps of paper,
and mess up the pretty pages of journals. 
Between the drawings of hearts and faces, flowers and butterflies,
Are my heartfelt pleas. 
They are the same desperate words I've written too many times,
again and again,
over and over,
year after year. 

Dear God,
I long for a warm chest, 
Where I can whisper all my secrets 
And rest my weary head. 
Please give me strength,
Release me of this shame. 
I'm so so tired Lord. 

Men fall for her, 
They fall for the carefree girl,
The pretty one with the big brown eyes. 
She laughs and smiles,
And you see kindness there. 

I sometimes wish you could see inside. 
I would take off some layers for you. 
And may be, just may be,
you would stick around. 
But I'm pretty sure you would run. 
And I wouldn't blame you.
I would run from me too. 

If you get too close,
You will notice the blood on my toes. 
The lights will come on as you rise from your seat. 
The crowd will applaud and rush to get back to their cars and the warmth of their homes. 

These hours of watching me dance,
Eventually come to an end.
You grow weary of seeing me after the curtains have closed, 
When my makeup is off and my costume lies in a heap on the floor.

It's never the same as it was. 
If you come too close,
You begin to see my scars,
And the pain in my eyes. 
I look into yours, 
And I wonder if you'll stay. 

Will you run when the tears inevitably stream down my face?
Or will you hold me close?
Will you wrap me in your arms,
and fight for me,
Even after the curtains close 
and I am laid bare. 

I didn't want to tell you lies. 
But I couldn't let you in too close. 
I kept secrets to protect you from me. 
Now that you know,
Will you run, or will you stay. 

I hope you stay. 


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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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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.