It took me a while
To see you for what you were.
A raging inferno
That burned me from the inside out.
You left an acrid taste in my mouth,
Making my throat raw
With lungs blackened
From inhaling your toxicity.
You promised you were oxygen,
But my heart is a ragged mess of burned tissue
Damaged beyond repair.
I want you to see it all,
Every burn
Every scar
Every bruise
You have left upon me.
I dare you to tell me
That you are blameless
And I did the all the burning to myself.

I thought about you
On the days when kissing you was impossible,
And your fingers were wrapped in golden hair,
While the heady scent of a perfume
That wasn't mine
Filled your nostrils.

I know you're hers.
She makes it clear
In the way she grips your hand,
Pink-tipped nails digging softly in your flesh,
Leaving crescent-shaped  marks in all the places
Her lips can't touch.

Her name is branded onto your cheek,
Spelled out in the remnants of lipgloss
Sparkling faintly against your skin.

I see the way her eyes fasten on you,
Glowing sapphires in a satin face,
And I see the way your brown eyes
Seem to glaze over
Your warm hands reaching to pull her closer.

You never seem to notice
My quiet smiles,
Or the brush of my fingers against yours.
You have strung the word "friend" around my neck
Like a strand of pearls that are so beautiful but so constricting.

You don't seem to notice my furtive gazes,
Or the silent hope I hold
For the day when you finally say
That you're tired of gemstones and gold.

I was 7 years old,
When I first heard the word "fat" in a whispered conversation.
I cannot forget
The sheer panic of the girl standing next to me,
Eyes widened in fear,
That the comment had been directed at her.
That was when I learned that "fat"
Was not beautiful.
I'm 16 now,
And I've been groomed to believe,
That tiny waists and pronounced collarbones are beautiful.
Food has become an enemy,
And after every bite I can't help but say,
"I'm sorry."
I have been taught since a young age
That all food is an excess,
That everything that passes through my throat
Has no business being there.
How can I learn to shrink
If I indulge in the things
That keep me alive?
I have been taught that
Anything that juts out of my body that isn't bone
Is not beautiful.
I listen to the whispers
And see the raised eyebrows
Directed at the girl
Who dared to place another brownie on her plate,
Head held high.
I never had the courage to praise her
For seeing food where I see numbers.
How could I possibly phrase
The amount of envy I feel
For the girls who can eat without guilt,
Whose food doesn't settle in their stomach
Like a heavy reminder.
For so long,
I've been conditioned to believe"
"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels."
But I see the girls
With tired eyes
And stumbling steps,
With stomachs as hollow as they are,
And now I realize,
That is not beautiful.

Maybe I haven't tasted your lips,
Or smelled the scent of your skin,
I haven't felt the warmth of your hand in mine,
And there are days that go by
That the weight of you gaze is always on someone else and never on me.
So yes,
Maybe one day
You'll pour yourself into someone else
And your heart will whisper secrets under their fingertips
While you trail your own down their body.
But I have heard the sound of your laugh,
And seen the shape of your smile,
And on the days that you do look at me
I feel your eyes burn throughout every inch of my body.
I know it'll never be me you turn to at night,
But god,
I'll be ****** if I ever say that one look,
One smile,
One laugh,
Meant for me wasn't enough.