My friends and classmates, they tell me,

                                         I am fine, I am doing well,

                                        Thinking, without being aware of the big picture,

                                        How on earth can a girl so young have demons?

                                        Not those ghastly devils six-year-olds are afraid of,

                                        But rather, the gruesome demons inside us,

                                        That can actually have the potential to attack.

                                         However, what they have all failed to know,

                                         Is that Anorexia and insecurities,

                                         They are embraced by my demons.

                                         My demons are desperate for them.

                                         The more my demons accept them,

                                         The more my spirit gets devoured.

                                          For my daily ritual, which I have adopted since age ten,

                                          I stretch my small, beady eyes wide open,

                                          So wide, the frustration and anger in me,

                                          Are able to flow like a stream,

                                          Down my chubby cheeks, as called by my demons.

                                          I attempt to squeeze in the “ layer” as tight as I can,

                                          Against my pathetic ribs, crying out to my demons to stop.

                                          However, they will not.

                                          I flinch every time someone offers me food,

                                          I starve until I can bear no more,

                                          Only because I am afraid I might die.

                                          Die, with the demons still celebrating inside my head.

                                          no salt, no carbs and definitely no sugar.



                                          Away from the demons?


                                          Run, for three miles every day.

                                          Exhausting? I do not care.

                                          I deserve it anyway.

                                         Sooner than you think, my friends,

                                         The pitiful, ugly and FATigued girl you see,

                                         Will turn into a pile of ash

                                         Of mere dread and anger.

                                          Htoo Myat Noe





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