Have you eaten?
Yeah
Have you?
I can tell when she asks me it grows from love
But I can't help but think otherwise as I curl her hair at midnight
Hugging me one last time before she goes off to meet the man who is made of shadows
I cannot save her
I cannot even save myself
I do sit ups as they lay asleep
I am bone and they are flesh
It's how it's always been
Hiding behind my skeleton while my friends pretend that nothing is wrong
Nothing is wrong
Nothing is wrong
How often do you cry at the dinner table?
Weeping over ever teaspoon of honey that falls down your throat
When will I realize that I cannot craft a new heart out of ash and longing?
I send myself mixed signals
Is the day a success if I eat something,
Or nothing at all?
What about one apple, two apples?
Three?
Am I any less alluring if you cannot see my collarbones stabbing through my neck?
A silent fist fight taking place upon my frail décolletage
Am I less interesting if you cannot see the world through the gap between my thighs?
If there is not even a sliver of space between them?
He can complain I do not eat
She can mother my heart into hunger
It seems to change nothing
Because they are not awake when I am awake
And they do not feel what I feel
An itching sensation in my stomach that causes my euphoria
A starving cry that echoes within my spine like church bells
There are wolves only I can hear
Howling symphonies of hunger and longing
They sing me lullabies as I lay awake
Horrified at the thought of having to explain to my childhood self that she would one day be afraid of her own reflection