We didn't break and we did not bend.
We swayed like toothpicks between teeth.
Sitting.
Silently smiling with cigarettes hanging from our bitter lips.
Smoking up the thing as if we were women who couldn't get enough lipstick.
But life bumped me and i smeared that ****.
See i wanted wintry hands and an almost nonexistent waist.
In order for that to happen my mind had to break.
I bent over backwards trying to get toa new body. I did cartwheels over calories and colored in a watery blue on all the pictures of food. I fade farther into myself the older i get and monsters ****** my imagination. There's a grave labeled "skeleton girl" that we're racing to. I Thought if skinny means dying then so be it. My mind already offed it's self when it analyzed my thoughts.