My Dearest FriendA Poem by MJ CherlylynFour years of depression I was ready to die Then I saw something In the corner of my eye.
A man dressed in darkness And clothed in human’s fears Approached me and offered An end to my tears.
He said he knew the problems He said he sees my fires He took a seat next to me And asked of my desires.
“I want control, I want acceptance I want to fix myself I want to be happy again I want to fix my mental health.”
He grinned, his voice like a purr “My dear, my dear, that can be done. I will show you how,” He quieted down “But tell no one.”
I trusted him. It knew no end. Before long, He became my friend.
I went to cut, he shook his head “No, no. No, no. Just don’t eat what’s sweet. No cookies, no chips, no cake. But you can still eat.”
The first to help and aid, He was the first to care. I asked him, I begged him To always be there.
If I obeyed him, I was proud, I was genuinely ecstatic For the first time in years. Though it didn’t stick.
I pointed all my hate and sorrow At food and my body. It gave me a target to shoot, It never once helped me accept me.
I began eating less Because it made him smile. “Good! Better! Now, don’t eat for a while.”
I did as he said Yet he wasn’t content. I wasn’t fixed, I was still worthless That’s what he meant.
He started getting stricter. “You must work out! Every single calorie, Every one counts!”
I lied to everyone As I skipped meals I went to exercise With the man on my heels
I worked alone in my room My life had one goal. I was numb to the pain Everything was dull.
People started sensing my friend They said they were worried, even concerned. But I didn’t listen, I didn’t care. I hadn’t yet reached what I so desperately yearned.
He covered my ears When they told me to beware. He shielded my eyes as I viewed my body So I wouldn’t see what was really there.
My body suffered I was slow But I kept running. No one could know.
If they were to see, They’d separate me from my friend. They’d take away the man On which I absolutely depend.
I never wanted him to leave. I wanted him to be with me always. “Forever, young child.” He promised. “To the end of your days.”
He caressed my wrists And the fat went away. He massaged my back. I loved looking this way.
He gave my life a purpose An obsession, something to do. I counted and calculated calories It became an unconscious habit and only grew.
The scars on my wrists faded As my cheekbones sharpened I resembled a stick figure All thanks to my dear friend.
I didn’t care if he was cruel. He’d done so much for my benefit. I saw his abuse as love I thought he hugged me, he actually spit.
My energy dropped, My health waned. Yet still, my friend convinced me, It was a result of all I had gained.
The central number dropped At last, below one hundred. I could see my future with my friend, I didn’t ever want to be fed.
In the little sleep I got, The man followed me. He lived in my dreams. I was glad to never be free.
I withered away ‘Till I was skin and bone. However, I was not unhappy, For I was never alone.
The man kept pressing Until I completely stopped eating. I still worked out, I still exercised, I followed my beloved friend’s leading.
I did not resist. He was my closest friend. He was the only one there for me As my life came to its end.
The date drew near. He stroked my face As I lied, dying in bed. “You’re almost there, finish the race.”
My heart slowed to almost a stop. My friend went to take me away I reached for his hand, I was ready to die that day.
My mother stopped my friend. But he still clung to me. Even as we sat in the hospital, I still could not see.
I got back my life. After feeding me for three days, I started to regain my mind. The blindfold began to raise.
They told me my friend had starved me, That his only intention was to put me to rest. I couldn’t completely believe them, So I put my friend to the test.
I reached for him with tubes in my arms. He flinched away and shook his head. “Young child,” He told me, his voice now a hiss. “You should have come with me instead.”
He no longer consoled me. He hurled insults and hate. “Why are you doing this?” I had asked. I asked that question from early till late.
“My friend, my friend,” I cried for him. He kept his distance and silently stared. I needed him as I suffered, but he didn’t help. I started to wonder if he ever really cared.
As I recovered, My friend crept elsewhere. He left me as I improved without a word. He just left me there.
I needed answers. I wondered, “Why did he flee?” I started to realize who he was And what he was doing to me.
My friend who I loved With all of my digesting heart Was nowhere near friendly or kind, Not even from the start.
My friend was a master At manipulation and tricks. He was an expert at killing I am lucky to have survived this.
My friend was Death. He got me to nearly end my life. He knew that starving to death was quicker Than small cuts with a knife.
I have not defeated Death. He did not forever flee. Another time I cannot escape, He will be back for me. © 2015 MJ CherlylynReviews
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3 Reviews  Last Updated on May 7, 2015 Author
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