My very own Titanic

I had to hide myself under layer upon layer of clothes so the world that had made me Anorexic wouldn't try to make me stop. Isn't that just a sack of shit? They weren't trying to make me stop to save me--they just wanted to intrude--take away more control from me --like they always had. I remember meeting this girl that I had gone to school with and she said,''Soon - there won't be anything left of you.'' Oh, fuck off. Like you care--could never speak to me in school.  But now that you have the chance to stare and point--yeah, right. Go eat. If anyone had really cared maybe they could have shown it before I got to this place. But they didn't. I was indeed a skinny spectacle--but it had caused me to emerge from the crowd--and bastards don't like that. So what if I died? What was it to them? NOTHING. Just more fodder. So I covered up and I kept starving. I was the captain of my very own Titanic. The rest of those assholes could jump off.