Blood rains all around me
Mist as thick as oil fills my head
Weighing me down as the darkness
Overcomes me draining my energy and hope
Until I can no longer recognize the person left behind
I’m a shell of my former self
A woman who is consumed by the darkness
The darkness in me grows day by day quelling my light side
the hunger consumes me
eating away at me from the inside out
until all that is left is a broken shell of a girl
blood flows on the outside of my body
ribs as sharp as the edge of a razor as my skin clings to them
my mind is a fog that never wavers, distracting me from my thoughts
thoughts that buzz through my head so fast that i cant keep up, driving me crazy
my body shakes from lack of food, from lack of blood
my body roars in hunger but my mind ignores it
only one thing is important
these monsters that are my anorexia and bulimia will not be apeased until all that is left of me is aquivering mass of skin and bones
where a wreck of a girl will reside because her monsters like to mess with her, her mind, her emotions, her sanity
every thought, every breath is filled with the hunger to be thin
its a time consuming addiction that preys on the week, leaving them spent and sickly
shaking like an addict who can't have a fix
shivers overcome me even when its not cold, bone jarring shakes that rock my whole body
the cold seeps through my bones freezing every fiber of my being
drowsiness lurks in every corner no matter how long i sleep
i live in a haze
a haze that is deadly but seductive all the same
who doesn't want to be thin?
the monsters tempt you and then leave you a wreck
not realizing until it's to late what you have started, what you have become
My Monsters Don’t Define Me
Scars and bruises mark my body, telling of the battles and the monsters I have fought and am still fighting. Some I have won the majority I have lost. My scars and bruises tell of the monsters I have fought. The scars show the way I change. As they fade I become stronger and finally take control of myself. The power slowly changes hands. This weak little girl that cries all the time and gives into her urges is not who I am.
I am a strong woman that is learning to push the urges away and who has come to reclaim herself after three years. My hand is raised in triumph as I win the first of a series of many battles. Slowly I pick up the pieces of myself that are shattered to unrecognizable bits. I’m slowly but surely piecing back together the puzzle of the girl that I used to be. I want to be that girl again, the girl that was always happy and that was oblivious to the dangers out there but deep down I know that is impossible. I am changed, for the better or the worse I am not completely sure.
Lifting my tear streaked face to the sky I think about the horrible monsters I am fighting .I think of how when I win the war that I myself will be better and stronger for it. Even if at the moment it feels nearly impossible. I will be less susceptible to the monsters out there because I am aware of the dark and dangerous monsters lurking everywhere just waiting to hold me in their grasp.
The stronger part of me shouts eating disorders and self injury are no match for me. While the other side of me quivers in fear at the thought of how hard recovering from my monsters will be. Day by day my strong side grows pushing back my quivering, weak other half. Embracing the strength and determination inside me I decide that these monsters can not and will not control me. I am back to claim the person I thought was lost. I will overcome the things I am most ashamed of no matter how long it takes me. I will come out victorious.
Writing sins of sorrow on my arms on my body
Only one tool needed to inflict pain
Relief for a few seconds
Before the feelings all rush back
And drown me, dragging me under
I look at my tool of relief and push it away
I don’t need you anymore I tell the razor
But my body betrays me
And aches for the fell of cool metal on my skin
No you won’t win
I don’t need you
But the urge leaves me shaking, crying
My reserve of strength weakening
I search for a memory to push aside this terrible urge
But it stands no chance and I give in
As I whisper this is the last time
I will give in to you.
It attacks me in my weak state, blood hungry. It leaves me shaking in restraint. I can't give in but know that looks like the only option. I want to give in and feel cold metal against my skin, feel skin breaking, watch as the blood drips down my arm. All my worries and the feelings of betrayal will be dismissed for know as the pain washes over me. Leaving me crying and loading control until I am covered in marks. I need this but I refuse to give in.
Previous PostsMy Darkness, posted December 15th, 2013
the hunger, posted December 8th, 2012
my monsters don't define me, posted December 8th, 2012
my struggle, posted December 8th, 2012
The darkness, posted June 24th, 2011
BlogrollHere are some friends' blogs...
HelpEmbed Photos Embed Videos