Move into the morning light
let me see you in the way god designed.
All of this time you’ve spent trying to
make yourself perfect
but you were perfect all along
here in this light
bare
& beautiful.

They squeal & shriek as they career down the hill.
Not because of adrenalin, seeking a thrill. They don't know of the impending ‘****’.
You see, they’ve never been in the back of a truck before.
Even daylight and the cool breeze is something new they regard with awe.
But prodded, pushed, poked; overwhelming! Terrifying is what it is!

Herded into the light and across the ramp with brothers, sisters, cousins.
No more the cosy family unit, they’re now just some of dozens… hundreds!
The only thing they’ve known till now is darkness warmth and a mother’s love.
And today, at just 4 months and a day…right for butchery - and suddenly a shove,
beaten… slaughtered, packaged, marketed, eaten!

There’s no realisation that this rude awakening, this beginning, is also…the end.
Their confusion is profound… No inkling… no message to receive or send,
that this first welcome breath of fresh air will also be their last.
But, having witnessed it , I’ve decided that I have a carnivorous past…

Et a partir de maintenant je suis végétarien!

I have so many thoughts in my head
but none of them actually make sense.
Well, that's not true either.
But I can't figure out the order they go in.
I'm trying to be better.
To love myself harder.
I sing in the shower
and dance in the mirror
but only when its still fogged up.
I smile more in my pictures
and I don't delete the ones in my husband's phone.
I'm making little steps
to falling in love with myself
which is a lot of effort
when I can barely walk as it is.
I try not to hate myself when I break
and binge eat again
but its really hard not to
when I know that I won't eat again for a few days.
And I know its a problem,
and I don't know how to fix it.
I'm just trying to love myself through it.

You are a slave to that refrigerator
Rummaging its contents for your self-worth
consolation beckoning from its abundant shelves
You're in a relationship with that refrigerator
insecurely quelling yourself with the emptiness of the jarred-full shelves
You break up, you make up
starve-binge, starve-binge
yet absent in every bite and every purge is your self-love and self-worth
spirits do not hush at the flavor of delicacies
and with every neglected rumble, it shrinks more
your soul is broader than endless contents
and starved for complete contentment
not for empty contents
You mean more than the solid handles of that refrigerator
learn your worth.

crawl
into my flesh
and sink
into my bones

I want to know
the truth
am I beautiful?
...not yet

I kneel before you
and I bow my head
I reach for the dangling treasure
in the back of my throat

I reach and reach and reach
until
there is blood coating
my fingers

but am I beautiful?
not yet

clammy fingers
grasp an ice cold glass
burning my fingers
but satiating the beast

to be hungry
is to betray you
numb everything
with ice

am I beautiful?
not yet

I can feel you now
etched into my skin
and I feel so paper thin
light as a feather

I look at the bodies
you put before me
and I all I see are
ribs
and
collarbones
and
spines

they are sharp
and my belly heats up
because they are

Beautiful.

and someday
I will look like them
but
not yet

Death is the only little pleasure
Left in this sullen world
For all things have their own
attempt at death.

it started off innocent enough
i heard the jokes
stage whispered into eager ears
and the muffled laughter
that inevitably follows
i felt every syllable
claw their way down my throat
i’ve been trying to reach them ever since

i admit this to you
in a body that buries bones
the dull corners not enough
to trigger your concern
no one looks at me and sees empty

seventh grade, twelve years old
i began skipping lunch
because i didn’t need it anyway
4 years later and
i guess i still don’t
this was my first venture
into restriction fueled by insecurity
because with a body like this
no one could ever love me

it’s so easy to say
i already ate
if i word it just right
no one asks questions when i disguise
my madness as magic
step right up! come and see
this body, the greatest freak show on earth
and i’ve mastered every trick in the book
so easy it is now
to conceal the dark magic
while i showcase the light

watch!
i’ll swallow blades and fire
and nothing else
i’ll regurgitate miles of handkerchiefs
in front of your very eyes
so you don’t notice what comes up after

the slight of hand
was the hardest to master
but now i perform it with ease
i can make this food disappear
before you even notice it was there
palm it in my hand
hide it in my napkin
bury it in the trash
where you'll never see it again
aren't you mystified by the unknown?

nothing can beat my greatest trick of all
a necromantic resurrection
of a dead thing
a zombie now walks
among the living
the parasite finally killed the body
it possessed

it latched onto my brain
thrived on my detriment
took and took and took
until there was nothing left of me
i was consumed by something
that was consuming me
this thing
that i've grasped onto for control
has grasped onto me
i've been reduced to nothing more
than my efforts to reduce myself
the parasite becomes the host

i heard the comments
and took them as compliments
gasoline poured onto an open flame
that i can't seem to put out
i thought this fire would extinguish
as the comments morphed to concerns
but that only made it burn brighter
and i'm not sure
how much longer
i can take this heat
shattered porcelain is still beautiful right?

piece me back together
but i'll never be the same
spiderweb fractures across
fragile skin may never fade
but maybe weeds
can still sprout through
i can paint daisy chains across my scars
and roses in the hollows of my collarbones
wildflowers grow
from the inside out
through the cracks in my flesh
and in the valleys between each rib
slow and steady
up my throat until i choke
but that's okay because
at least it wasn't food
i'll swallow bouquets
to keep my starvation in full bloom

the rumble in my stomach
became my favorite song
a national anthem
for a living hell
that brings life to these monsters
if you are what you eat
maybe i can be nothing

i dance around the word "anorexia"
like it's cursed
because i can't seem to admit
that this disease
has devoured my mind
and made every one of my thoughts its own
so i dress my words
in pretty metaphors
and tie beautiful syllables
around my sickness like a bow

but there's nothing beautiful about
hair that falls out when it's touched
and a body racked with chills
in a warm room
there's nothing beautiful about
losing everything
that matters most to you
friends, family
even the ability to have children
there's nothing beautiful
about ***** on your hair
and on your clothes
blood dripping from your nose
or that ache that lies
deep in your brittle bones

this disease is not beautiful
broken isn't beautiful
but darling
you are
4/22/2019

Someone once asked me why
I starve
When I know it could **** me
“It’s not even attractive
To be that skinny”,
They said.

I let the sentence simmer and bubble in my crockpot cranium,
And chewed it for a long time
After it was done cooking

“I want the parts of me”
I said
“That nobody has made *****”
The hips and the ribs and the spine
And the knobby knock knees
That so many man-children
In my young life
Have not had the chance
To bruise and scratch
And touch
And dissect.

I want the bones
And I’ve wanted them as long as my hole punched
Memory can recall
Because they are the one thing
That has ever,
Truly,
Only,
Been mine
And mine alone.
The secret I can grab with both hands.

-people can not destroy what you keep hidden

mining liquid ice, cream vanilla something
at dawn, sugar, fat, whipped smoke rising hope
better than hate at breakfast, face etched snarling
a circuit ******, roll and tub down *****
slippery, thumbed a feast of biscuit crumbs
off a plate, table and at feet. Arrived
at loathing a choir rabid, sings morning.