Yesterday
I cried myself to sleep
at the pain in my head
the pounding
the twist of my stomach

Today
I wear dress instead of bow tie
don't think I can stand the stares in the hallway
don't want to explain to my dad
get called cute
force a smile
remind myself they say it as a compliment
turn red anyways

Tomorrow
I will lie to my therapist
tell her I'm improving
say I'm 3 months clean
won't tell her about the drinking
won't tell her I almost killed myself
won't tell her I still want to
won't cry

Anorexia
is the most deadly mental disorder
and maybe that is why
I tell myself I am fat,
maybe the reason I cry
when I look in the mirror
is because there is
110 pounds
too much of me
95 pounds
too much of me
80 pounds
too much of me,
I will not be content
until there is no weight left to lose,
until this skin is turned cold
and falls off my body,
I will be
counting the ribs you can see
on my corpse.
I will make myself smaller
and smaller
and smaller
until there is nothing left
to take away.

Beautiful and hungry,
They proclaim my fears.
They scream out of the darkness,
They whisper into my ears.

"A moment on the lips,
Adds ten pounds to your hips."

It rips into my sides,
It makes my stomach churn.
I guess I'll always think this way.
I guess I'll never learn.

On Tuesday,
I drank tea with a skeleton
named Eileen.
Her fingers were long,
and her lips were drawn
like a frown, unable to move.
It was a sad sight to see,
and it convinced me to be happy,
now matter the weather,
and she said --

If I were to die,
which I will, one day,
I would like to pass in a forest,
for surely it is curious
for a life to end
where so many
begin.

So we laid her body in a bed of daisies
and painted her eyelids with raspberry tears
and coated her lips with the Queen's honey
and covered her naked corps with ferns
so that she finally experienced the embrace of a Mother.
Cause she said --

If I were to die,
which I will, one day,
I would like to pass in a forest,
for surely it is curious
for a life to end
where so many
begin.

With a body temperature
Below 96 degrees Fahrenheit,
Wrapping yourself in bed sheets
As translucent as your skin
Seems so nice but
Every minute you spend
Shivering is more calories burned,
So you try to ignore it
Or maybe you do two hundred more crunches
Because being athletic is healthy,
Right?

You open the pantry only to
deny yourself sustenance because you
are unworthy of
These simple pleasures, and
You almost let yourself
Eat an apple but
When you remember how
Good that girl in
the thinspo you have
Hidden on your phone looks,
You stop.

You flinch when your mother
Calls your skin porcelain,
Because that word means
You failed to restrain yourself
And you have always been taught to
Resist temptation, and
This is the ultimate test.

When I was younger
I was stick thin.
My aunt pulled my mom aside and cautiously whispered
Do you think she's been eating enough?
My third grade teacher
gave me the nickname
Skinny Minnie,
my gym teacher told me to
go eat a cheeseburger.

Now I look in the mirror
and cannot find my younger self.
My aunt did not blink an eye
when I said
I'm not hungry.
My teacher does not question
when I bring only a water bottle to lunch,
someone, please,
tell me to go eat a cheeseburger,
because I have only eaten
two-hundred calories today
but no one is calling me skinny.

I.
Witness your family
stop loving
each other.

II.
Understand what people mean
when they say
the world is not fair.

III.
Be struck with
the realization that
you are not special.

IV.
Hurt yourself.
Don't tell
anyone.

V.
Let strangers
see parts of you
your friends never have.

VI.
Decide that being deep
is more important
than being happy.

VII.
Cut all your hair off
without asking
your parents.

VIII.
Let your ex
boyfriend see
all your scars.

IX.
Go to counseling.
Do not cry.
Not here.

X.
Stop
hurting
yourself.

XI.
Feel empty.
Try not
to cry.

XII.
Let yourself
be defined by the
honesty of numbers.

XIII.
Do not
fill your emptiness
with calories.

XIV.
Pour out your
heart, soul,
dinner.

XV.
Restrict yourself.
Minimize.
Shrink.

XVI.**
Finally
have
control.

IF THIS BODY
WEREN'T MINE
WOULD I STILL
HATE IT?

I am not writing this
to get attention
or pity
or so people will tell me
I'm beautiful the way I am.

I am writing this
because when I post a poem about
being terrified to look at myself
because I hate what I see,
it should not be added to a collection titled
Humorous.

I am writing this
because when I sit at a lunch table
without a brown paper sack,
boys should not laugh when they ask
what, are you anorexic?

I am writing this
because when I watch Disney Channel
with my eight-year-old cousin,
I should not hear jokes
about skipping meals.

I am writing this
because when you google
anorexia is,
the first suggestion should not be
anorexia is good.

I am writing this
because our society should not
expect people to be paper thin
but judge them
for trying to get there.

I am writing this
because insecurities
are not a joke,
*no one
should be laughing.

I AM SCARED
TO LOOK AT
MY NAKED BODY
IN THE MIRROR

My stomach growls
so I get another cup of ice water.
Please,
let me feel pretty.
I'm trying so hard.