I’m getting too thin again
I said as I looked in the mirror
The outline of each rib stretched against my skin.
I like it when you’re thin
You look appreciatively up and down
It’s ****, came your reply
I can squeeze you like a cat
And so you did, hands wrapped round my torso
I smiled and laughed

It came on slowly
At first amused and then frustrated
At how often I wanted to eat.
I got hungry and I got thin, too easily
It was a struggle to maintain it
To be in the healthy limit
And then it became a nuisance to you
This need for regular sustenance
You who could go on cigarettes and coffee alone.
So I stopped pushing
For us to eat together
For us to eat often
And so I didn’t.

Then once I was there again
The place I had worked so hard to get out of
You praised me
And I knew it wasn’t healthy
And I scoffed at your insistence
But a small part of me glowed
And so I did nothing.

When I moved out, I worked at it again
I gained it back and I felt beautiful
No more worried looks or comments
I felt free of you, healthy
But your small voice in my head
Was I somehow less appealing?

Fast forward almost a year
I’m back in your arms, this place I find comfort
And I hear those words again.
I reject them but still, I skip meals
Unthinkingly, distractedly, I was busy…
And there they are again
The cutting bones of hips and ribs
You smile
I cry