I know that I'm good for something

I started to like the feeling.

the feeling of emptiness at the pit of my stomach,hunger.

I lived off the pain,and craved it when it was gone.

I would purposly make myself endure hunger,

just so I could be close to becoming flawless

I knew I was far from it.

If I tried maybe, just maybe, I could reach it and be that image.

That image of perfection.

But the once I hit the amount I thought was enough, I was too late.

I had pushed myself too far.

I had carried on this strike for longer then I needed.

I was weak, and breathless, but I still couldn't stop.

It was second nature now.

This feeling was my life.

The nights I spent in the hospital I mostly thought about what went wrong.

How did I get to this stage in my life?

A stage where family, friends, school and everything else become minority.

They didn't matter.

The days I spent in the hospital I would stare at myself in the mirror

With disgust and selfpitty.

What a foolish, brainless person stood before me.

I realized that all this time I didn't need to try to be beautiful.

I realized beauty was from within

It was your charactristics, your charm, your brain that made up who you were.

People with a proper charctastics, clever charm, and a well balanced brain, wouldn't do this.

So it turns out I was beautiful,

but it didnt matter anymore

because now the image, and the mind that made up who i was, was nothing but

hideous.