Friday, December 17, 2021

Comfort

The truth is,

there is comfort in being unwell. 

That I think it is what I deserve 

to toil in this hell. 


Anorexia conspires and makes you believe 

that when your body holds up,

everyone will think you are healed.


How can I admit that I am scared

Of the voice in my head being louder

but my body looking better


That the body malfunctioning is easier to understand 

it takes less explanantion 

and people hold your hand. 


My mind scares me

a deep vortex of things I do not know

I am afraid to be me wholefully

So instead, I simply plateau. 

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