“Have some chocolate.”
My first instinct is to say yes and
Devour the chocolate like I used to
Devour my insecurities but last
week I stood in front of my mirror
and traced the fat on my hips with
my chipped fingernails and I watched
my mother open up the seams on
my new pair of shorts because I was
too
big
to
fit
in.
Last night I stood in front of my
mirror and read poetry to myself which
used to distract me but my eyes kept
drifting to the non existent gap
between my thighs and I noticed how the
space between my stomach and my jeans
was gone.
maybe it was hiding from me.
“Have some dinner, darling”
my first instinct is to
devour it like I used to stuff my
my insecurities into the back of
my mind,
sorry ma, but why waste time on
food when I have already consumed
and demolished the ability to look
at my own reflection.
Sorry ma, but how do you expect
me to put food in this body that
feels like it’s tearing itself up from
the inside.
Last night I tried to count my ribs
in the mirror but I couldn’t find
them, and I wanted to feel my bones for
once but maybe they were hiding.
Last night I never went to bed and
I watched the sunlight pour in and
illuminate my body, head between my
knees on the bathroom floor and
tears streaming down my face.
I tried looking for my self confidence
but I couldn’t find it and I waited
for happiness but maybe,
maybe she was hiding from me.
I was always terrible at hide and seek.
Depression looked me in the eye
and told me I’d be happy soon.
She said sweetheart, don’t you worry,
you won’t hate yourself for long.
after all,
Dead girls are skinnier.