You Look 'Well'! : A poem of frustration to appearing 'ok' when recovering from an eating disorder

“Don’t you look well!” 

That it would seem. A gleaming picture of health and wellbeing

 

But thats news to me, its not what I feel

What you see is a mask of what I conceal. 

 

I feel low life, disgusting, worthless, impure.

The infection inside is too viciously cruel to ever be cured.

 

You’ve seen me smile and flaunt a so called ‘healthy body’. For you that symbolises success

But you’ve not witnessed the untouchable scars,

that are nothing less than a chaotic mess

 

Just because I eat, and I work, and I play,

Doesn't mean all my demons have been vanquished away.

 

You view my exterior as a marker of how and who I appear. 

Less aware of my hollow interior

and the depths of everything I fear. 

 

Can you not see the flaws, holes and hopelessness that manifests my insides? 

Or the anger, control and chaos that etch my mind like cascading tides?

 

The light I appear to radiate is much dimmer the further inwards you look. 

But who am I to invite you upon the torn pages of this worn out book?

 

But all is apparently well. You saw and said it many a day.

Even when I was wishing to once again wither away. 

 

Can I be well if I’ve often thought of ceasing to exist?

The numbness of disappearing sometimes seems hard to resist

 

If only you could see past this shield of appearing ok,

You’d know all is not as it seems once you’d crept into my mind for the day.

 

 

I  must be well though, if thats what you perceive. 

Maybe its best we keep it this way, with my mission to deceive.

 

I know you mean well, 

You wouldn’t wish any pain.

I’d rather you think that I’m ok so I’m never a burden again. 

 

To you I am solid, unwavering and perhaps even Bad ass! 

You’d still never know my mind was shatterproof as glass. 

 

I dare not reveal what keeps me prisoner,

perhaps out of fear I could unleash it upon somebody new. 

I’d never wish this demon to make anyone experience what its made me go through. 

 

This beast has been fed enough. Let it just finish its drawn out meal.

Let it lash out, scold, tear apart everything until I can no longer feel 

 

And when it is done, I will too wish you all well

I don’t blame you for not wanting to step into my hell. 

 

I’m not here to blame or wish you had tried to save me once more

I just wish you could sometimes see past what I enclose beyond my hidden door 

 

There may be a time when you can see what I don’t disclose on the outside, 

But thats not today. 

 

For now I am well, I can go along with this play....

 

 

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