One week.

Seven days.

168 hours.

I laid in my bed.

Half alive,

Half dead.

Sleeping hours away.

Not wanting to get up and face the dreaded day.

What does life have to offer me?

Nothing at all, as far as I could see.

Laying there... wondering.

When will my life leave me?

Looking in the mirror, I couldn't see much.

A girl... more like a pale ghost.

And all I ate every day was yogurt with a bit of toast.

But still.

I loved to see my protruding ribs, spine, and shoulder blades.

I thought they were so beautiful to the touch.

Trying to sit up was too hard.

I'd get blackouts that would last for almost five minutes.

But still.

I felt good when I couldn't see.

Like I had become skinny, beautiful, yet needing to say...

Those 168 hours?

I never want to revisit them.

Not even for a single day