self distruction

An eating disorder is always portrayed as a little monster that’s clung to your back, and screams awful things at you when you decide to get seconds or when you look at yourself in the mirror.
An eating disorder is not some fictional monster.
When I grab seconds, it is me that scolds myself and I remind myself how much I’m going to regret it.
When I look into the mirror, it is me that says those God awful things that make me want to tear myself apart.
It’s all me.
I checked under my bed, and I checked in the closet.
There is no monster, it’s just me.
—  What Should Be Under My Bed
There are some teeth in my mouth who have given up on me
and when I open my mouth they say, “Don’t bother”
They say “You got me all fucked up”
Never “We’re sorry.”
That’s always my job.
When I open my mouth, it’s all “I’m sorry”’s
and my mouth is a cave of apologies.
My body curls into itself and only gets rejected.
This is self-care,
how to ruin yourself
before anyone else gets a chance to do it first.