Poems for the Pained

Skinny

"I don't like skinny girls."
The one sentence that tipped me over the edge,
That sentence broke the dam in my mind and allowed the tsunami of self-destructive thoughts to rush outward.
He doesn't like skinny girls,
So I must get smaller.
I will shrink until the bones in my back slice through my skin,
Shrink until my legs become so frail I can barely stand.
Calories and calories and calories,
Rarely consumed yet frequently burned,
These mischevious creatures burrow their way into my skin and expand until I become so enormous that no-one will recognize me.
But then again, no-one could recognize a smaller me.
Why would I ever wish to balloon outwards,
When shirvelling into a pile of bones seems so delightful.
So I will become everything he despises.
I will lose as much of myself as it takes to become the skinniest boy he has ever seen.

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Yo, so I don't know if I'll be updating much in the next few days. Christmas has been really tough, I'm trying to quit smoking, intrusive thoughts are coming back pretty strong and I'm basically under house arrest. Also I won't have another therapy session until maybe a week or two into the new year. I'm just not doin too great y'know? Sorry for this poem being shit btw, trauma got me fUcked uP