I eat only sleep and air and everyone thinks I'm dumb but I'm smart because I've figured it out.
I am slimmer than you are and I am burning my skin off little by little until I reach bone and self until I get to where I am essential until I get to where I am
Food doesn't tempt me anymore because I am so full of energy and sense I can even pass by water now because I am living off the parts of me that I don't need anymore.
I could feel the slow drips of pain before, swirling inside where my lungs should have been. Now I'm clean inside.
I threw out hundreds of things that I didn't need anymore. All my dresses and bras stupid things like jeans and socks. Most days I float through the house naked so I can see myself in the mirrors. I have hundreds of them everywhere and they talk back to me all the time. They keep me true and pure. They make sure I'm still here.
When I knew what I had to do I took all my notebooks, all my manuscripts and ate them page by page so I could take my words with me.
I can finally control my life and even death and I will die slowly like steam escaping from a pipe.
This is my greatest performance and all of the actresses who won my parts will say how wonderful to let yourself go that mad, how wonderful to go on this kind of journey and not care if you come back to tell the story.
I scratch words on the walls now so people will visit this museum and know how someone like me ends up like this (they'll say there is art in here somewhere).
Everything that comes out of me is sacred every tear, every cough, every piss. Everything that comes off of me is sacred every fingernail, every eyelash, every hair.
Starvation is sacred and I scratch my bones against the windows at night. I light candles and feel myself evaporate. This body is a little church, a little temple. You can't see me now because I've gone inside.
My family doesn't call anymore. My friends don't call anymore. You can't hurt me anymore. They can't hurt me anymore. Only I can.
And that's okay. I don't need them anymore. I can live off of me. I speak to me. I dance with me. I eat me.
When they find me, I'll have a little smile on my face and they'll wrap me in a white cloth and lay me in the ground and say they don't understand. But I do. I don't hurt anymore. I'm not lonely anymore. I'm not sad I'm not pretty anymore. I made it through.
I feel so holy and clean when I stretch out on the floor and sing. Sometimes god comes in for a minute and says I'm doing fine, I'm almost there.
Every day I get a little closer to vanishing. Some days I can't stand up because the room moves under my feet and I smile because I'm almost there, I'm almost an angel.
One day when I am thin enough I'll go outside fluttering my hands so I can fly and I will be so slight that I will pass through all of you silently like wind.