i can’t eat.
my mind is so wired to believe that the body it drives needs to look a certain way, to appeal to a certain demographic, that i cannot swallow food once it enters my mouth.
how disgusting.
how disgraceful that the people around me as a child engrained self-hatred so deep inside my bones that a basic functioning need is impossible.
i have been starving for a year.
i don’t know what hunger feels like.
i know how to devour. i know how to consume. i know how to take and take and take until there is nothing left. but i don’t know how to be hungry.
the place in my stomach where the hunger once lived is only filled with guilt and shame and hatred. i cannot swallow food once it enters my mouth.
i cannot fill the pit with food if i cannot eat, and i cannot eat because the pit is empty.
