Active As Of December 2020

My ED isn't even sad or depressing anymore,,, its deadass just funny now. Like i have a crippling fear of peanut butter,,, thats fucking hilarious.

waking up to stars on the ceiling and bruises on pale skin and battered feet on & off the scale and almonds in ziploc baggies and bite marks on fingers and hair down the drain and measuring crunches by the spots left on the spine and enough water to drown organs and eating an apple with a knife and fork and battered feet on & off the scale and desperate hands clutching ribs and standing up & the world goes dark and carrying an emergency rice cake in your purse for weak spells and enough green tea to drown organs and how many calories are in toothpaste and whatever nail polish color covers yellow and battered feet on & off the scale and is today the day my heart gives out and how many calories do you burn when you sneeze and pillows squeezed between thighs and waking up in a new body everyday and fingers clasped around wrists and notebooks filled with numbers and purple crescents below the eyes and accidentally knocking your elbow on your hip bone and being afraid of your own reflection and i’m not hungry or i already ate or i’ll eat later or i don’t feel well and oxygen that tastes like splenda and battered feet on & off the scale

*pfft* look at this bitch