Deep breath. Light as a feather, soft as a breath, smooth as silk, pale as alabaster stone, rare as diamonds, bright as the sun.
Should I be concerned that I can't bring myself to care about anything? I can literally see the weight I've put on, but I still won't stop eating. I know I look horrible when I go to school, but I still won't try. I roll out of bed and throw on anything that fits. If I brush my hair, it's a good day. On a bad day, I leave in yesterdays french braid.