MyBreath

My experience with an eating disorder.

like i've said, i am a believer of the butterfly effect.

This is a poem about the death of my best friend. This is also true for clarity's sake

Scattered papers and a bleeding pen found myself thinking it was the end.

And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

This is a story kind of like "The Girl with Depression" but a little bit longer. She didn't find the need to hide who she really was.

Sometimes all you need is for that one person to tell you how beautiful and amazing you are to them, to actually see your self the way they see you. Like the beautiful soul you are.

If you are looking for someone to understand...