i am too small, too big, not small enough at all

i only feel safe when i can wrap my fingers around my wrists,

measure the circumference of thighs with my hands wrapped around completely.

there are stars in my eyes, and the filters from which i see keep changing color.

its only because im so dizzy, feeling the entire planet shift tectonically.

i am on my knees and my arms are hugging cold porcelain, or is it my skin that is cold?

i am so sore, wish i could sleep, wish i could drown.

my head is a vacant marble hall or a confined box of noise.

buzzing, spinning, reeling

retching, dry heaving.

i am small, i am big, i am absolutely nothing

i avoid my reflection in the mirror the same reason that i avoid checking my grades online

but i catch my own gaze anyway and can't tear away

its surreal to know that this is me

that i exist.

i spend most of my existence praying for it to cease for no good reason other than that i keep failing

how to disappear completely - i do not know, but GOD am i trying.

although i am too afraid to take that final plunge.

so im torn between the ephemeral state of fading out and the "i'm hungry-not-hungry-stop-please-i'm fine"

i am small, i am big, i am absolutely nothing