When I look in the mirror disgust is all I see.

I’m filled with emotions of hatred and pity.

Pity for who I once was and what I am now. Hatred for those who turned me into this thing, this monster. Oh, I once was beautiful, oh some months ago. But beauty had a price they wouldn’t let me pay. I paid the price then and I’d pay it again. For starving yourself is a small price to pay for a smaller waist, and a small chest. For boney hands and skinny fingers. For a thigh gap and the perfect neckline. Who are they to say what I can and can’t do with my body. They took away my art work, my masterpiece. I spent so many hours crafting and molding making the perfect body. The craftsmanship was impeccable sure all it ran on was water and celery but that’s all it needed to thrive, to survive. So now I’ll sit in my room and lock them all out. I’m up in my head and I won’t come out. I’ll spend my days sitting, sulking, planning, and plotting. They’ll rue the day that I turn eight-teen. The day I reunite with the me of my dreams. But for now I’ll forever hate myself when I look in the mirror.