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Dec 2018
It’s been 48 hours since food last touched my lips
48 hours of pain and starvation
I don’t mean to starve myself
I just can’t help it
I look at myself in the mirror;
With disgust and disapproval
I am not choosing the hunger
But when I look at food, I automatically become sick
I think of the times I’ve cried over my body
The hours I’ve spend ridiculing every stretchmark,
Fat roll,
Wrinkle,
Every inch of myself that is less than subpar in my eyes
Do you think I want to be like this?
I sit and sleep;
instead of eat
My stomach growls
Sounds like thunder on a dry summers day
Speaking to me and telling me to stop being a ******* idiot
I tell you I haven’t eaten and your response is clear
But what does it matter to me what you think
At the end of the day you aren’t the one whose hungry
You aren’t the one who pushes her body to the point of breaking all in the name of beauty
Oh to be beautiful
Seems so easy
Especially when those words roll off your tongue
But I flinch in pain
As my body begins to eat itself
And you sense something is wrong
I tell you I’m fine
But based off the look on my face;
you know it’s not just a stomach ache
stepped on the scale today and I cried.
Brando
Written by
Brando  18/New York
(18/New York)   
140
 
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