Starved

triggering

(Source: prometyda, via fuckingcuddle)

iatemyheartout:

I’m not me anymore.
I’m the bruises on my legs, the bumps in my spine. I’m the ribs in my chest and the hips poking out. Despite all this, I’m the fat on my stomach and the numbers on the scale; the fleshy skin of my arms and thighs that beg me to slice. Who am I? I’m a pathetic little girl who cannot fight the demon in her head.
Or maybe, just maybe, the demon is me.

iatemyheartout:

I’m not me anymore.

I’m the bruises on my legs, the bumps in my spine. I’m the ribs in my chest and the hips poking out. Despite all this, I’m the fat on my stomach and the numbers on the scale; the fleshy skin of my arms and thighs that beg me to slice. Who am I? I’m a pathetic little girl who cannot fight the demon in her head.

Or maybe, just maybe, the demon is me.

(via music-is-life-xo)

queencoachella:

The pain destroys you, twisting your mind to go against everything you ever believed in. You become a monster.

queencoachella:

The pain destroys you, twisting your mind to go against everything you ever believed in. You become a monster.

(via barelyhanging-on)

depressi0n-and-sadness:

Can anyone else relate to this or..?

depressi0n-and-sadness:

Can anyone else relate to this or..?

(via scratchedwrists)