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About Varied / Hobbyist Leslie Lu (:Female/United States Recent Activity
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Leslie Lu (:
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Ya uhmm.. I'm 23 and a double major ( criminal justice and psychology)
I battle a lot mentally and emotionally so my work is somewhat dark on occasion, but I like it better than expressing it verbally in person; Art can't tell me I'm healing wrong. (:

As far as art, I do it all. I like editing pictures, I make Jewelry, I wire wrap, write, paint, draw, cake decorating, floral design and lots of paper crafts as well. I have to really be in the mood. Inspiration is always nice but if I go long periods without posting, well that's why.

This is my personal blog:
I also have a recovery blog:…

I am an open book and I love meeting new people and hearing ideas and thoughts!! So feel free to message or comment anytime love bugs!! I've been away for a while but I'm gonna start coming on here again, I miss this place.


Standing on a stage
performing for all to see
a painted smile,
a perfect pose
a longing to be seen.

Pull her strings
She will do anything for you
her master puppeteer
she'll act as she should everyday
so maybe you will want her too.

Strings on her heart
strings on her mind
"do just as I say
   or I'll leave you behind"

A perfect doll
for a master manipulator
a disguise she didn't see
tormented thoughts,
a broken heart,
and a longing to be free.

An attempt do dance away
left her crumpled on the ground
he perched her back up on the stage
then she knew that she was bound.

Wondering how to live and dance
without a puppeteer
she made attempts to cut her strings
she was left in tears.

She's standing on her stage
she's dancing for all to see
a broken smile,
a feeble pose,
but wait the puppets... me.
As sick and masochistic as it is,
there is a rush in pushing your body to the limits.
There is a high in knowing
that you are defying nature
to live on this much,
to live on this little,
to be shrinking, disappearing
and to survive it.

I wanted to see how long I could go,
running on fumes.
I wanted to find the bare minimum required to subsist.
Food was a possible miscalculation of calories,
a loss of certainty about your control over chaos,
your control over yourself.
The horrible possibility that you are taking
more than you deserve.

That's where I felt in control,
I felt like I was breaking every biological,
physical chemical law possible
and that I was in control.
I was doing what seemed like it shouldn't be possible
and I was surviving it,
I wanted to find my limit,
see where my body would break.

I became very concerned with gaps,
spaces between my bones,
absent places where I was certain
there had once been flesh
but I couldn't quite remember when.
I began to measure things in absence
instead of presence.  

I regret it now.
My God, do I regret it.
My best friend told me
as well as my dad
that the thing about struggling
with an eating disorder is that
"I've just found another way to hurt myself"
and that's true.

But it was never my intention.
The thing is I personally constructed
my own private hell,
I made my body a prison,
unaware of what I was doing.

It's totally sick and completely irrational
but I find myself thinking often
in the back of my mind,
that if I destroy enough of me
there will only be good parts left.

It took me a long time to realize
that I was destroying the good things,
and digging myself deeper
into the hell I've learned to call home.

I was left with one part this,
some parts that, no parts me.
I think I've had myself convinced for a long time
that if I could somehow scrape the
marrow from my bones
to be just a little bit lighter,
If I could shrink-
take up just a little less space,
If I could somehow become a
negative amount of a person-
maybe I wouldn't be too heavy a burden
to bare.
This place is a body.
The walls are its bones
or its skin,
or both- an exoskeleton,
like a crab has.

A crab's shell is meant
to keep it safe,
to protect it from the world;
it is made to keep things out.
But this shell is meant
to keep me in,
to protect the world from me.

And the halls are like tongues,
fingers, toes,
like so many appendages.

And these rooms are the lungs-
identical, swollen, polluted.
This one is the stomach,
churning its contents
into something unrecognizable.
This is flesh,
I declare,
pinching my arm.
You are alive,
I tell myself,
exhaling sharply
to make myself laugh.
It's 5 am I am on my bedroom floor,
staring at the mirror,
and talking to my reflection.
I am quite certain I am dying.
I continue to make myself laugh.


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Journal History


Add a Comment:
Official-Immortal Featured By Owner 4 days ago  New Deviant Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the favorite
HecticHarmony Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem! You deserved it (:
Official-Immortal Featured By Owner 4 days ago  New Deviant Hobbyist General Artist
thank you for the watch as well. and your work is awesome <3
HecticHarmony Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank You (:
Queen-Kitty Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2016   Photographer
Thank you for the favorites!  I'm really glad you enjoyed my photography!
CatsWire Featured By Owner May 24, 2016  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Thank you for the fave! :)
wordturner Featured By Owner May 23, 2016
Thank you for the Fave on addicted!!
autogestion Featured By Owner May 19, 2016  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thank you for supporting :w00t:
UniqueNotFreak Featured By Owner May 19, 2016  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav ^.^

Follow me on Facebook or Tumblr to see pieces in progress before they get on DA
JennyStevensArt Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2016  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fav!!

Very inspiring work!
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