In HELL (Life with Anorexia)

(Poem written by Sarah O'Connell)


I don't know what I'm afraid of,
I can't figure out what it is
Is it of what I will become?
Or what already is?

I'm afraid to see myself
As who I really am
Is that my body I see-
That stinking, rotting ham?

I hate that reflection of waste
I'm afraid I'm just too big
My thoughts are like sharpened shovels
They dig and dig and dig

And I just can't fit in this world
I glare at myself in disgust
My body I torture slowly
But to me this is a must

My mind is trapped and tine-torn,
Forks twisting through matter
Pounding, piercing- please make it
Stop!
My head bludgeoned by a hammer

I see myself as a monster,
I don't deserve anything
My thoughts are a deluge of nor'easter-
A vicious and violent sting

In fear I stare and stare
At that revolting face I wear
But when I pass a mirror,
My reflection I cannot bear
What if I'm just too ugly?
Maybe I'm not even there
What if I'm just too fat?
In veracity, who really cares?

Will I ever uncover a parallel soulmate,
To love me as I am?
To fill this vast ebony hole,
To create flavor where I am bland

What if I remain alone,
And die alone in bed?
Longing for my soulmate
Who may only exist in my head

Will anyone ever truly know me
Inside and out?
Through every vein,
through every flaw
Evermore, not just a bout

What if I hate myself?
Forever and for eternity
The torment would nevermore cease
Oh, what will become of me?

And if I can't find what I'm looking for
I'll wait for what I dread
Wait for my death
Wait for my life
Anticipate what lies ahead

What will I be when I've departed?
Will I be better than what I left?
If I am as lonely as I am
Let it be my ultimate breath

I don't know what I'm afraid of
I can't figure out what it is
Perhaps it is myself?
The burden of knowing I'm naught,
A plethora of festering stealth

I cannot endure this existence
Having the misconstrued to tell
So now I'm incarcerated
In my mind, my body,
In HELL......

Silkchen Mausilein, Maus of mine, my dearest darling girl...

I know what you mean and I understand, and I know that you know that I do; but think of me, remember me, and that I have chosen you!

You have found me, and I have found you; we are no longer alone.

I wrote you a little sonnet called The Master-Key, #472, just now, and posted it on the poetry board. It is about how you, my wife, my chosen, have given me the gift of hope, which I never had before.

If you can make this old suicide want to live, and love, and be with you ever and always, there must be something wonderful about you!

There is, and I have found it: you are not only my chosen wife but my best friend, and from your hands, from your heart, I have received the blessing and gift of hope.

*Hoffnung*

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA

AMOR VINCIT OMNIA

Love the pic and the poem. It is so true, so real for me. Thanks for sharing this with ue here. I always like to know I am not alone in my feelings.

Love ya,
Dara