love is all there is...

Worth
4:08 p.m. || 2003-02-19
Mirror mirror on the wall

Who is the most useless of them all

One of these days you'll answer me

One of these years you'll finally see.

Mirror mirror on the wall

Please just let me fall

For a long endless minute you'll laugh at me

For a long endless hour you'll scream with me

Mirror mirror on the wall

Who is the most grotesque reflection of them all

Forever you will tell me, me

Forever you will show me nightmares instead of dreams.

So this is my hokey lame retarded poem. It is not even worthy of being called a poem. It is not very original, not very poetic, and not very interesting.

But I am upset at myself, and frustrated with life in general, and I had to write something. So there it is. Forgive me this piece of shit mockery of writing.

tick tock

Your time is up

Ticket please

What number are you, miss?

Number 1? 2? 3?

tock tick

Your number is up

I see you have no ticket, ma'am

but, please, i am number 983.

No ticket, no number. Ticket please.

tick tock

I need to see a ticket please;

We are closing up.

but i am number 983, i scream.

You are too late, girl.

tock tick

Take another number please.

Number 0 is available.

Number 0 has been served.

Get back in line or, nevermind.

tick tock

Come back tomorrow, child.

but i am number 9 fucking 83!

I'm sorry lady, I'm really not,

there is no number 9 fucking 83.

TicK tick

i am number 9-8-3.

i am number 9-8-3.

i am number none.

i am number none.

TocK TOCK

Take another ticket or leave.

the dispenser is empty.

the dispenser is empty now, i shriek.

Tough luck. Click.

Yet another vile piece of poetry. Bleh.

I have thrown up 5 times in the last 4 days. I managed to make it 4 days binge-purge free. I have not been exercising. I am a lazy fat pig. I do not deserve to rest. Why am I resting. I hate it. I hate it so much.

I hate the guy who used a job interview to ask me out. I hate the job I got offered by his district manager when I complained. I hate my lazy scared self for turning it down.

I lost a pound. That is it. Failure failure.

Oh, the one good thing in my day is TF. And I am starting to feel invisible there... invisible. I guess I want to be invisible. I don't know anymore.

I am terrified to go to the Psychiatrist. Terrified, you hear? I don't know if i can do it.

I keep having nightmares. I woke up crying the last 3 days in a row.

I skipped class to eat and throw up.

I threw up for hours on end.

I baked a cake just to eat and throw up.

some of it is left, a little only, in the fridge. I hear it calling me.

I hear her telling me not to eat it, not to eat anything. I can't. I CAN'T. I can't or I won't stop. I don't deserve to eat. I haven't been good enough lately to eat.

I must sound insane. I do not feel sorry for myself. I mean it. I don't. I am sorry for sounding like a idiotic mass of babbling flesh. I am sorry that I can not post on TF and support everyone. I am letting everyone down as usual.

My dream last night was about failure. I failed. I failed and they laughed. It was some sort of thing with a bike. A race maybe. I failed. I lost. I dragged the bike behind me and they laughed and I woke up crying.

I am not worthy of everything in my life. I am a greedy girl. I traded in some old jeans for new ones. I lied that I didnt wear them. Size 8, because they are falling off, even though i just got them. I traded for size 4. I lied and I am greedy for getting new jeans.

I want to eat jelly beans and I made Peter hide them from me. I want to hide all the food in the house. I stash food in a cupboard so no one else's food can touch mine.

I washed my hands 25 times yesterday because I smelled like smoke.

I am such a failure I choose lung cancer over life.

I guess I deserve the cancer, if i am so weak I can't stop. Even Mom thinks I am weak because I can't stop. She always thought that.



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