Can’t stop me

The burning pressure that drifts through.
The feel of exhaustion taking over.
The feel of weakness overpowering.
I loveto exercise.
Because my eating disorder named Steve told me to.
My mum captures me and forces me what is called to be food. Steve said if I eat, I will forever be a failure.
My therapist said if I keep listening to Steve, I may end up dead. Dead?
That makes me laugh.
I don’t mind ending up dead.
Why are we forced to be normal?
Whose rules are we following?
This isn’t suppose to be when Hitler wanted all the abnormals out of Germany.
I liked the feeling of weakness.
I liked the feeling of being sick.
I liked the feeling of my stomach growling. It assures me I’m still in power. But no more can I feel that when I’m trapped in some sort of dungeon where my mum forces my worse enemy down my throat down to the pit of my stomach.
But it’s okay, says Steve. He’s still here with me. He promised I’ll become stronger. He promised I’ll become perfect. Then everyone can notice me! Everyone would want to be like me. They’ll be looking up to me.
I like to be abnormal.
And no one can stop me.


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