i am too small, too big, not small enough at all
i only feel safe when i can wrap my fingers around my wrists,
measure the circumference of thighs with my hands wrapped around completely.
there are stars in my eyes, and the filters from which i see keep changing color.
its only because im so dizzy, feeling the entire planet shift tectonically.
i am on my knees and my arms are hugging cold porcelain, or is it my skin that is cold?
i am so sore, wish i could sleep, wish i could drown.
my head is a vacant marble hall or a confined box of noise.
buzzing, spinning, reeling
retching, dry heaving.
i am small, i am big, i am absolutely nothing
i avoid my reflection in the mirror the same reason that i avoid checking my grades online
but i catch my own gaze anyway and can't tear away
its surreal to know that this is me
that i exist.
i spend most of my existence praying for it to cease for no good reason other than that i keep failing
how to disappear completely - i do not know, but GOD am i trying.
although i am too afraid to take that final plunge.
so im torn between the ephemeral state of fading out and the "i'm hungry-not-hungry-stop-please-i'm fine"
i am small, i am big, i am absolutely nothing