Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2012
My life is measured in
calories,
grams of sugar,
pounds of fat.
I poke my arms,
grab my thighs and stomach,
trying to find less of
me than yesterday.
I count the times I
step onto the scale,
do the math down to the
decimal point,
hate myself for gaining,
hate myself for losing.
I want to see hip
bones, collar bones, every bone
jutting out of my body.
I want to be tiny and
breakable, like a little
procealin doll,
pale and painted and
perfect.
I want the number on that
electronic screen to
drop to double digits,
so there's nothing blocking the
view of my
feet on the scale.
Dani Huffman
Written by
Dani Huffman
582
   --- and Sammi
Please log in to view and add comments on poems