My hipbones rock me on the wooden floor
Protruding from my frame
Skin bruises from simply laying on my stomach
Yet I am not skinny
red lines mark where the folds of my stomach have been,
my arm like wings
my thighs hugging each other tightly
stretching occasionally my eye catches the reflection of a stick like woman I can't recognize in the dark window until I realize she is me
as that settles in my true details fill in
morphing the strange woman into the ugly that is me.
Striving to become the strange woman that once was
I shove a finger down my throat