i feel better
when my bones threaten my skin,
stretching it,
pushing against it
like they're about to burst through

i love myself better
and like myself more
when i stop taking care of myself,
just like i did before

and you can call this a relapse
but i'm tired,
tired and tired of being tired,
tired of hating myself

so when i skip a meal,
don't coax food into my mouth:
all i'll want to do
is spit it back out

i won't drop as far this time,
just enough that
my shirts hang
away from my chest again,
away from my stomach

i'll be high
on self-love
when i treat my body
with the resentment i feel towards it

oh i'll be healthier
when i'm unhealthy

i'll be happier
when i'm skin and bones