Control and Perfection
It claws at my insides staring away at my organs. It consumes my thoughts until food is the only thing on my mind. I have no control over it. Control the factor that is driving this demon. It is the thing that I want most. The thing I want most, because it seems like I have none. I have no control over my thoughts, others thoughts, my family, my life. This is how I cope starving myself. This is what I control my body. What goes inside of it, what it looks like. I weigh 140 pounds not good enough I want 120 no 80 the perfect weight. I want perfection I want control. Maybe if I look better I will feel better it will calm my depression, Make me happy. Every pound I shed makes me happy for a moment at least only temporary. I need more I want more. I want the best which I feel I will never be. As the wind blows outside my hospital window I wish to feel the breeze on my skin. Instead of pain in my stomach and a headache induced by my racing thoughts. I start to feel light headed as my mind slowly fades into darkness.
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