And her nights seemed to be longer than before. She would lay in bed questioning her existence and being. Why she was so concerned about her appearance was unknown. It’s been a never ending battle. Her thighs have scars. Each has an occasion and a reason. She can name each incident with vivid description. She wishes her personality would exude, but she is always too concerned about her outer appearance to let herself shine. So she confines herself to the futon in her bedroom. Pretending to be confident in herself, but she knows it’s all a lie. People think she’s fine because she has a smile that would stop the world in its track. A cute little gap that gave her a quirk. Stretch marks on her sides that she gained when she was recovering from anorexia. She wants to see them a battle scars, but to her they are just a reminder of the weight she’s gained. She takes pills to be small again, but it’s not working. She’s trying to be content but it’s not so easy. She is confused on who and what she wants. One thing she is sure of is that she wants to be happy. She’s working on it. But the pills aren’t doing their job. The pills for her mind and body are both failing. So what is left? She is. She is left here.
And the rivers of blood began to flow faster. The vessel of pure emotion began to pump faster. The stars within my eyes began to shine even brighter. The zoo that lied within my stomach began to create a roar. The indentions that appear when my teeth show were deeper than ever. The pigmentation of my cheeks began to redden. The bags of tissue that were usually filled with smoke felt struggle while trying to breathe. The muscle within my mouth that usually always had something to say, was at a complete loss. My body was confused and perplexed. Not in the sense of ignorance, but in the state that it was not used to being what seemed to be in love.
