A Holy Kind of HellA Poem by Whitney KleinhuizenA piece about Anorexia and how it can be seen, by those struggling with it, as a good and comforting thing.With endless promises of beauty and of peace And ways to make the number on the scale decrease A ghostly saint then appears, extending her soft hand Offering a shield of protection and a heart that understands Ana has this voice, it's so holy and light She takes my hand and guides me through cold, dark nights As the number keeps falling, her praises of glory get louder I strive to please her only, as she fills me with power I'm a daughter of Ana's, devout, I stay true
Abiding by her rules and repenting for my sins The hard work begins to show as the body starts to thin High from starvation, an addiction has surely grown As the skin becomes transparent, now a longing ache to see bone A purpose she gave me and reasons for a new day I hold her tight in our embrace and promise to always obey As she walks me through hell, I will follow her lead She is my angel of want and my devil of need So pure in her ways and faultless to the grave A broken soul in darkness, she shined her light and she saved With tender arms that hold me always, I will never be alone A mother of love and comfort forever, Ana has become my home © 2012 Whitney KleinhuizenReviews
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12 Reviews Added on September 19, 2012 Last Updated on September 23, 2012 Tags: ana, anorexia, eating disorder, daughter AuthorWhitney KleinhuizenPortage, MIAboutI write out of expression. I don't know all the "rules of writing" and quite honestly don't really care. I write what I know. I write what I feel. I write beyond the eyes. I write from the heart. A.. more..Writing
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