I used to wonder if angels breathe,
In one two three,
Out one two three four.

I was taught by a therapist
That you breathe in
But you breathe out a little longer,
And I've always wondered
What that really did
Because it never really stopped the anxiety entirely
Like the way you tend to do.

And I know my skin is pale,
And my flesh is soft,
And every curve of my body
Would not be considered defined in the muscular sense
Save for the fact that I look so much smaller
Than others.

And I wonder if you'd still love me,
If you saw me emaciated at 110 lbs,
When I was in the hospital.
I could count my ribs,
Without holding my stomach in.

And at 120 lbs,
I wondered if you would have loved me
If I weighed any more,
And now at 125 lbs,
I realize it doesn't really matter,
You love me nonetheless.

And I struggle even still to eat,
Most days I feel sick from drinking too much water.

And I breathe in
One two three
And out
One two three four,
And I'm looking at the time,
And I'm looking at your texts,
And I wonder if you see me
As I see you?

And while I know you love me
As I love you,
I can't help but wonder
Do angels breathe too?