I'm malnourished and I admit now that I am ill; but I don't intend to recover anytime soon. Why do I do this? For control? To disappear? Oh, how I wish I could simply vanish. I remember telling an old friend (I miss dearly) that if there was a place I wanted to stay forever, it'd be inside his pocket, if only he would keep me, and his response that day was, "Interesting choice for a home" -- But now he is gone from my life. There is a blank space inside me. All I feel is pain and the gnawing hunger; yet feeling the way my bones jut out comforts me... I hope this eating disorder kills me someday.