I can't believe that I've been bulimic twice in the past week.
It made my stomach feel horrible and swollen this time.
And I awake feeling dried out today.
I'm disappointed in myself because I'm already unhealthy.
And I just did it out of anxiety over gaining weight.
And to be real honest, man.
I have been like this because I'm focusing on boys.
I want to be so physically appealing that I have control over them.
I want them to be on their knees for me.
And I will be standing above them.
I was on my knees for Bry.
For two years.
And he was never on his knees.
My knees got dirt caked into them.
Big ol' rocks that I sat on.
They're ingrained into my skin now.
And all the blood that sat under my skin.
The bruises that stained my face.
And the blood that drained from the back of my head when.
He pushed me, and I hit the bed.
It's all there in my knees for him.
I was a soul slave.
As long as I received a kiss goodnight.
I thought I got what I deserved.

It's funny because that hatred.
It was like.
He became me.
It was Jo he hated so much.
And he'd try to beat her out of me.
But I sat there.
And I stared at what I loved.
And it transformed into me.
Beating myself again.
You know, 
I've given myself more black eyes than Bryan.

But I really really love myself.
And they need to be on their knees.
And maybe when they are on their knees.
I can get on mine, too.
And we'll just be at eye level together.
And all I'm going to do is sing them sweet songs.
And pet them sweetly.
And I'm going to make sure that I receive the same.

But I really need to only make decisions that are good for myself.
And I know that bulimia is a death mongrel.
I can't throw up even when I actually need to.
Without feeling like my insides are dying dying dead.
Take care of yourself, Young Little.
New York won't do it for you.

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