Categories > Original > Poetry
"I've never had a thigh gap", I think to myself as I look away from my the mess on my plate. Scents burn themselves into my nose, into my gut, as if just these aromas are enough to keep me alive today, this week. No, you don't need that. No.
But I could not stay away, I could not stay away. No giving it up, I can't, I can't, I can't. I hate myself for every calorie that slides down my throat. I hate myself as I feel ounce after ounce adding up just to become miles and miles of pounds on the scale. But mostly.. I hate how I couldn't stop myself. Or maybe how I couldn't make myself do it after, no. How I couldn't jam a finger down my throat and watch as my curves are passed on from me to the sewers, as my mountains of womanhood went down the drain, as my life left and my smile grew.
"There's nothing wrong with you. You're fine, you're fine, you look perfectly fine." I can't stand to hear those words so close together, so close and swinging at me. No, no, no, take it back. Take it back! You do not know how to percieve this body, only I.. know the consequences of living with me. Only I know how it feels to wake up in this body of more than bone. Bones. Bones. Why can't I see my bones? Why can't I stop myself? Why can't I put it down? Why.. why can't I see bones?
Skeleton.. I do not want this skin that has somehow become a part of who I am. I do not want the grime to pass these lips, I do not want you to love who I am, I do not want to face this self image every day. I just want to be small. Small in this small world. Small to fit my small voice, small.. small enough to have an adequate amount of love for myself. Small. Small to have one less negative notation. Small, to go by unnotticed.
"I've never had a thigh gap," I think to myself, pushing myself away from who I am. Pushing myself closer to the person that I want to be.
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