Nothing Beautiful

February 21, 2012
By Anonymous

there’s nothing beautiful about
bulimia.

there’s nothing beautiful about
throwing up.

bones hold me together but
no other body to speak of
exists between the spaces;

and what i believe holds me together
i know is what rips me apart
and fallen from good graces.

voices echo inside me screaming
with their empty promises that i’ll be
happy and beautiful and free;

while i know i am its slave and
what i believe saves my life
is what destroys me.

i claw at my body with
the truth that i’m never good enough
and hide and twist my soul into a lie;

and i believe what is keeping me alive
is false comfort and security and control
is really what will kill me till i die.

cruel and heartless, bulimia only stops for
death; and there’s nothing beautiful about dying.

there’s nothing beautiful about
bulimia.



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