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Heavy tw: This is about eating disorders! Also suggestions of self harm.

The scars on my legs. Climbing up to the thighs I try so desperately to thin. A ‘stomach’, which is just a uterus. That I think, if I starve enough, will shrink and disappear. My ribs, that you can’t quite see all the time. But if I breathe in enough, they are there. A sign of failure. My neck. That from a certain, very specific angle, when I look down, could maybe, possibly, be considered a double chin, to some people. But only if you squint. Fat.

I’m fat.

My puppy’s teething. Which means he bites. He tries to grab my arms a lot. I feel his mouth wrapped around my bones. There’s no fat there. No muscle. Just skin. Skin and bone.

I find this reassuring. Like, I’m doing well. It’s sick. I know it’s wrong. It’s dangerous. What I see isn’t real. I’m ill. Yet I can’t help but feel achievement when my mum says I look skinny. I know it’s because she’s worried. And it’s not okay. But I strive for it. It means it’s working.

I get compliments from strangers. They ask how I get my figure to look so good. Of course I lie. Tell them it’s diet and exercise. But it makes me proud. Like I’m doing something right. I strive for it. It means it’s working.

I don’t even feel hungry anymore. There no pain of an empty stomach. And the numbers are going down. Weight dropping. Measurements lowering. It’s working.

But it’s not enough yet. I still look fat. My thighs are still too thick. I still have a ‘stomach’. You can’t see my ribs yet. Sometimes I might have a double chin in some people’s opinion. But only when they squint. I’m still fat.

So I will starve. I will make my mum worried. Not because I want her to be, but because it means it’s working. I will lie to strangers who compliment my figure. Not because I’m a liar, but because it means it’s working. And, hopefully, soon, it will be enough.

There’s salt water for my blood. I should know. I’ve been hurt before. I see you and the jellyfish in my stomach sting. Stop it Toni. He doesn’t love you.

I have these marks on my skin. Scars from shark bites. Living within my veins. I see you and the sharks circle and bite. Stop it Toni. He doesn’t love you.

Just breathe. He’s only human. Yet i still idolise you. I see you and my lungs fill with water. I’m drowning on dry land. Stop it Toni. He doesn’t love you.

This pain cuts me deep. The fear of losing what we have. The rejection before even asking. You damage the ecosystem beneath my skin. An alien species within.

TW: hits at suicidal ideation, self harm and eating disorders.

I hate the mess.

The messy hall when Kaitlyn gets home from school. Shoes on the floor, jacket hung on the banister, bag dumped wherever there’s room. I ask her to put her things away. She pulls that face she always does, rolls her eyes, and puts away her shoes. No more mess.

The messy sink before Mum gets home. Bowls from breakfast, knifes from lunch, the aftermath of whatever snack Kaitlyn had when she got home. I fill the sink and wash all the dishes. I go to ask kaitlyn to dry them but I’ve already asked her to put away her stuff, so I do it. No more mess.

The messy table after I do my college work. Ink stains on the table, paper scattered everywhere, at least one half filled mug of coffee. I put the mug in the sink and get a cloth from the cupboard. I wipe the table and get the stains out the best I can, then the paper goes away. No more mess.

The messy relationship between me and my Dad. He left, tried to make us homeless and never told me why. I never told him that it made me hate him, we both pretend it never happened. I stopped seeing him for a while but it just made it messier. Now when I see him he tells me he had missed me, he tells me he loves me and I believe him. At least a little. No more mess.

The messy future. I left school too early, don’t focus in college properly and don’t have any career plans. I tell myself I’ll do more. I try to focus harder in college and decide what university I’m going to. I decide I want to learn to drive next year and that I want to go travelling after University. No more mess.

The messy brain in my head. It says nothings real, no one likes me, I don’t deserve to be clean. I try to clean it. I shower every day and I keep the house clean. I starve out the mess, I cut out the mess, I cry out the mess. There’s nothing else I can do.

I miss you. I really do. I can’t help it.

You broke me for a while. You told me you liked me the way I liked you. You said we should talk more. So I tried. I tried for you. Because I liked you the way you said you liked me. But you didn’t. You didn’t try. You didn’t like me. You just didn’t.

Then you told me you didn’t. It broke me. I’ve never felt like that before. My stomach dropped and tied in a knot and split in two all at once. My chest ached. The type of ache you can’t ignore. Then the tears. I held them until I couldn’t keep them any longer. Until they broke the dam, streaming down my face. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout and tell everyone how much I hated you. But I couldn’t. You broke me. I had no voice. I had no one to tell. I had nothing.

But I told you it’s okay. I told you I didn’t mind. Of course we can be friends. It’s hard though. Being friends with someone you would do anything for. I wait for you when you say you want to hang out. Then you don’t any more. And I’m alone again. But it’s okay. I don’t mind.

I believe in you. You cancel every time. But I keep trying. Why do I keep trying? You don’t care. You don’t want to see me. You just don’t. It’s obvious. But I’m desperate. I try so hard to have something I can’t have. I keep trying. because I like you. I believe in you.

looking through old boxes

and the memories flash back

remembering everything you did

and the knowledge that you lacked

cleaning out a time capsule

of everything you own

reminding you of what you saw

We sit in the car, driving back from dropping Kaitlyn off. I ask to put on ‘my music’ and play Gerry Cinnamon. I know you like him too. You just laugh and say, ‘you know i showed you Gerry’. I didn’t. We talk and laugh for a bit. You say that your worried, Kaitlyn’s been quiet around you lately. She’s been quiet around everyone lately, she just does her own thing. But you wouldn’t know that, you only see us once a week. You say that I seem so much happier now. I am much happier, life’s been easier for me. But you wouldn’t know that, you only see us once a week. You say that I’m telling you more about my life. I know I am, I never liked you much before. But you wouldn’t know that, you only see us once a week.

I get home and all I think about is how much I wish I could have grown up with you. I mean, I did. But you were different. You hurt mum. You took Sophie from her. You tried to kick us out our home. You never answered my questions. You treated me like a baby. You were awful. You’re different now. We like some of the same things. We laugh about stupid things. We tell each other what’s been going on. Why couldn’t we do that before? Why did you have to be different then? I wish I could have grown up with you. But I never.

AND SHE DID ALL THIS WITH RLY BAD EYESIGHT!!

“Ricky town, population... Ricky”

i also drew mia from pulp fiction!

“three tomato’s are walking down the street...”

i’m probably gonna draw more...

“could you describe the ruckus, sir?”

hah