To feel my ribs poking my skin would be a dream.
The remains of last nights supper is still in the ceramic bowl. I was too weak to pull the handle.
The use of the belt is exhilarating, each belt hole I pass getting more and more rewarding like a new checkpoint. My dresses needing to be pinned in the back is great until the day a pin makes me bleed.
But thats okay, pain is beauty right? And what is beauty without commitment. Don't just be beautiful, STAY beautiful. DON'T EAT THAT COOKIE.
Or do, what difference does it make. You're just going to throw it up later. When your cold and damp from the sweat and sitting your bathroom, wondering what more could you want. What more will satisfy your dire need to be good enough.
I like being beautiful.
I like the pain.
I like being beautiful.
I like when the fingers in my throat claw out the hundreds of caloric mistakes I made through out the day because they're the only ones I can erase.
