September 16, 2015  (pt.1)

I was a fat, freckle faced kid.
It was the way I looked, and he absolutely hated it.
He hated anything that was a flaw.
Being teased for something I didn't even do to myself.
I remember looking into my mirror feeling down.
"Is this really me?" he would say inside my head.
My inside voice, my dark roommate, nagging that I could do better than this.
The voice was like a fork scraping a plate repeatedly in my head.
It made me feel like when my body was created, the wrong model was picked off the shelf.
It wasn't until highschool until my freckles started to finally fade away.
My skies had seemed to be just a little less gray.

One more flaw It didn't have to look at anymore.
I grew taller, yet it seemed like my fat stayed the same.
It was until he realized all I had to do is stop eating.
"You can't be fat if you don't give your body what it desires to be fat."
That's exactly what I did.
I starved myself for so long, I actually forgot what it felt like to be full.
When I first started, I felt so powerful
It was like when I starved, he was carving a new mold for me.
Taking my clay body and sculpting into whatever he wanted to make.
I've never had so much control while being controlled.
That was until I dropped 70 pounds in such a short time.
My brain became deluded, I couldn't see the progress I made.
He had tricked me.
I still felt exactly the same.
I couldn't see the skeleton in front of the fucking mirror.
I only saw chubby me.
It was like instead of a reflection, he showed a picture.
A picture of when I hated myself the most.
A picture that stayed the same, a picture that refused to change.
Over, and over, and over I only saw that same picture.
This thing, I thought would make me feel so good, turned out so bad.
It wasn't until people around me began to notice what I couldn't see.
But when I finally saw, it was like cleaning your glasses for the first time.
Clearing the muck and finding clarity.
I finally had a grip back on reality.
I finally saw the skeleton in the mirror.
Ribs bulging from under my skin.
It was like seeing hilts of the knives that have been stabbing my insides.
It was scary.
That fat freckle faced kid was no longer me.
Sadly, it didn't even make me happy.
It wasn't even me that wanted this change.
My dark roommate I share this home with,
This dark roommate, my nitpicking roomate...
re sculpted my clay body.
Only, his new mold was created poorly.
He left cracks in the clay, cracks that can't be smoothed over.
Almost made me believe he could be my four leaf clover, but he didn't bring luck.
He brought misfortune
Worst of all, I can't be mad at him because I think he's just apart of me.
I just wish it wasn't me, so I could just hear someone else say they're sorry.