I threw up in my grandmothers toilet because I ate a bowl of oatmeal and I couldn’t stand the idea of it in my stomach anymore. you see I think this is where it starts. at first it’s just skipping breakfast, and “I’m not hungry” at lunch but then it goes to sticking your finger down your throat trying to force up whatever’s inside of you that’s causing your skin to stretch and your bones to feel like they’re caving in because you feel like you’ll never be the people on the tv.
sometimes when I look in the mirror I feel like I’m dying. nothing matters except the fact that I’m not as thin as I used to be and I can’t fit into the dress I wore to the eight grade dance three years ago and although my bones have grown since then it doesn’t matter. i am drowning in skin that’s always felt too large.
when I go home I will look my mother in the eye and she will ask how my day was and I will not tell her I spent 20 minutes crying because my lunch was refusing to come up my throat, I will not tell her about the triumphant feeling I had when it finally beat gravity.
i will tell her my day was fine.
i will tell her I’m fine.
— I’m falling apart– Lily Rain