The Perfect
My mind is the battlefield
Fighting the urge
using all the self-control in my body..
water and vitamins are my diet.
determined to be beautiful
to be the perfect.
wanting beauty
needing food
refusing it.
starving myself
in this quest for perfection......
body breaks down
you can see the bones clearly now,
but STILL i continue
mind forcing me to continue
determined to have the perfect
looking in the mirror
finally understanding....
ana is NOT my friend
she is a cold, heartless bitch
whispering lies and changingme
i have no idea who the hell ive become
since when did i believe that
true beauty is measured in how far my hip bones stick out?
Since when did i believe
that that was the perfect
is that really what i believe?
or is it just what ana tells me?
looking in the mirror
hating my reflection.
rage boils over
glass shatters around my fist
destroying the reflection of the perfect
fork to my lips
i cant do it
looking at the plate of food.
life
bile rises in my mouth
i run to the bathroom
it terrifies me
the smell and mostly
the thought of distroying the perfect
beware!
ana is not your friend
neither is mia,
though they would tell you that they are.
they tell you that they can help you achieve the perfect
and they do...
but they destroy you in the process
In : Poetry