fat.

it’s all i have been and it’s all i ever will be.

i cover mirrors and hide under my duvet.

i wear baggy clothes and hunch my shoulders.

i breathe in and try to make myself smaller.

but i am still fat.

no matter what, i am still fat.

and it’s all people see.

it’s the first word that comes to mind when they think of me.

it’s what they’ll use to describe me.

it’s what i think when i see photos of myself.

i zoom into my body; fat. fat. fat.

there’s not a bone in my body that is not engulfed by fat.

visceral fat.

subcutaneous fat.

i think about it day and night.

my organs are lathered in fat.

i can feel it in my body.

as i eat i feel the fat being absorbed.

fat.

three measly letters, yet it controls my every thought.

i think about cutting it off.

physically.

ripping the flesh off my bones,

and sewing my skin back on.

i’d be beautiful.

hollow, and perfect.

you gave me everything:

you gave me your life.

you gave me your time.

you gave me your wage.

you gave me your food.

you gave me your clothes.

you gave me your shelter.

but you withheld what mattered:

you withheld your love.

you withheld your affection.

you withheld your validation.

you withheld your feelings.

you withheld your empathy.

you withheld your patience.

you were there physically,

but you weren’t there for me.

you treaded the line of neglect,

and told me to be grateful for it.

god please speak to me.

show me you’re real.

show me you’re listening.

i need a sign.

god please help me.

why do i feel this way?

how do i get better?

i need guidance.

god why are you doing this?

they say you never give more than we can take,

you expect too much from me.

i can’t do this anymore.

god i’m ready to die.

if suicide is a sin i’m prepared to burn for eternity.

it can’t be more painful than this life.

i have made up my mind.

god i’d ask you to look over my loved ones,

but i cannot trust you.

not after how you looked over me.

i have lost all faith.

i’m a minimalist

not in what i own, but what i show

i minimise my emotions

i minimise my opinions

i minimise myself

i shrink myself, try not to take up space

but i’m a maximalist

not in what i own, but what i experience

my emotions are intense and messy

my opinions are strong

i am big and loud and affectionate

i take up space, but i’m allowed to

i miss the sadness i felt when i first got ill

sadness that was still surface level

it was loud and obvious

it was radiating from me

the sadness i feel now is different

this sadness is deep

it’s made it’s way into my core

it’s infiltrated my soul

it’s changed my structure

this sadness is subtle

it’s a constant ache

it bleeds into every experience, every moment

it’s silently killing me

this sadness isn’t just sadness

it’s hopelessness

it’s anger

it’s guilt

it’s anxiety

it’s

an empty feeling

i feel everything

and nothing

i am a shell of a person

i look the same

but i’m not

this sadness has ruined me

i miss who i was

i miss the person i was when i first got ill