Personal Platform: ‘Anorexia’

I was only twelve.

I was overwhelmed.

And it’s a story that we know all too well:

of the little girl who learns to hate

herself because of what she ate

and as the hours turn to days

she fades away.

The sparkle goes from behind her eyes

and as fat disappears from her little thighs

she starts to whisper little lies

‘I promise you, I had my meal’

she loses touch with what is real.

She learns to love the dizziness when she stands

and how the number on the scale

is finally completely in her hands,

more than she ever loved herself.

And her poetry book sits on the shelf

because at the end of the day she’s too tired

to ever feel inspired

to do anything but sleep.

Her body is too weak.

And the number keeps dropping

and there is nothing stopping her,

even her doctor who says ‘Congratulations’

on what she lost

he doesn’t recognize how lost

she is.

She’s left alone to break the cycle

but she doesn’t want the pain to end

she’d rather twist and break and bend

around the breakfasts and lunches and dinners

because if she eats she becomes a sinner

a heretic of her paper thin church.

And she cannot think of which is worse:

not to eat or to be fat.

And in her mind the prayer repeats:

thou shalt not eat, thou must not eat

She never has time to rest or to heal

because nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.

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