You make me feel like i don't matter. Less than. Like the image of myself in the reflection of the Creator is distorted. Somehow disproportionate against the scale that measures my worth. "Don't look down, look straight ahead, otherwise you'll change the numbers." i oblige, and you add weights. i have gained weight you exclaim. "you're obese" is a statement. i diet. But no matter how many times i purge myself of my stomach's contents, play a game of Russian roulette with nutrients offered to me by well meaning hearts, i have 12 hours to choose between dinner and a glass of water; i can never shed off the extra pounds. The title of having an eating disorder is only rewarded to you if you look like you're starved. Doesn't matter if your spirit is dehydrated! you're ungrateful! Wanting to leave a warm bed and a roof over your head. There are people hungry and homeless. Count your blessings! ... But i don't want to be here. The things that gave me joy once before, no longer even brush the edge of my soul. The beauty i see in this world only entices me to the splendor of the next. How much sweeter the fruits, brighter the colors, crisper the air. The rules of languages discarded because we converse with our energies and not with our tongues. A spiritual realm in which respect is not a form of hierarchy and my safety is not a present, gift wrapped in testosterone to be torn open again by the very same testosterone. ... Cry because you made me realize that i don't want to be here anymore. But don't forget to smile, because you made me realize... That I don't want to be here anymore.