I’ve always craved skinny,
The way other fourteen year olds craved their parents *****
I wished for hip bones that could slice me in half
Skinny was always a glowing exit sign in a dark room

Breakfast was 4 glasses of water
My organs floated in my body like trash in the ocean
I didn’t feel full unless I was empty
Which doesn’t make sense
But neither does starving yourself
Yet I mastered that a long time ago  

I still count the minutes after I eat
Food feels like a brick in my stomach
Some days I want to feel my bones more than I want to be healthy

It’s been six years since I first looked at food
and saw only numbers
My bones are no longer accessible
Most days I eat three meals and don’t think about it
Some days I break apart sticks of gum
Dividing 5 calories
Into a full days meal

Some days I want to be skinny
More than I want to be happy
And most days I realized how ****** up that sounds
But sometimes I miss the shipwreck that filled my hollow bones
Sinking organs with no hope against the water I fed them