The girl in the mirror- I don't recognize her.
She has dark, tired eyes. She has a pale face. She has a weak body.

It's hard to breathe, the walls are closing in. They surround me, and capture me inside.
Trapped.
Trapped somewhere between dead and alive. An imperfect ghost with an imperfect presence and and imperfect soul.
Trapped in this world that doesn't seem real.

My fingers shake as I trace every curve, every imperfect piece of me.
My head is spinning- everything I see is a blur. No matter how many times I blink, I can only make out the ugly outline of my reflection.
It's the only thing I need to see.

I close my eyes, and fall into a dreamland. I can't tell if I am asleep or conscious because they feel the same.
If I just relax, I hear my heart beat pounding loudly in my ears. I can feel my blood rush through my veins.
Everything is drowned out- I can only hear the steadiness of my body working, fighting, for life.

The demons speak to me in a secret language no one else can understand. Their voices blend in with my heartbeat.
"You are so fat, it disgusts me." "You will never be perfect, not even close." "You will never be good enough." "An imperfect person reflects an imperfect body."
I cannot fight them anymore- I am too weak.
So I let them take absolute control.
I am becoming the demons. I speak their words on my tongue. I see through their pairs of eyes.
I don't need food. I feed off the voices. I feed off my soul.

I feed off every imperfectness there is.
And there's so much of it, I know I will never go hungry again.