it takes one hour, three glasses of water,
and the breath of morning between first awakened yawn and turning the shower faucet on,
bare bodied, stepping on the plate to present myself to the cold, small, square
an exhibit
a self examination
i'd say that those three numbers will dictate what kind of day i will have, because obviously,
it could only be good or bad,
but i will hate myself whether or not the number is less or more than the one before
and my last good day was about 15 pounds ago

your fingers on the soft skin of my stomach
remind me that I am allowed to eat, every tickle and pinch tells me
I don't have to worry about my size, I'm counting the kisses
instead of calories,
and the pressure your smile elicits in my chest
is more important than my weight

spring is a thick, white fog
silence of a room with nothing but a fan on
messed up blinds and paranoia
and lots
and lots
of porcelain

I have a scar on my right hand, directly below my ******* knuckle.
It is from my teeth digging into my skin while I shoved my fingers down my throat.
It is from me trying to rid myself of hate,
To rid myself of ugly.
To rid myself of the thought that, "I am not worthy if I am fat".

It has been exactly 1 year and 3 months since I last forced myself to *****.
And I can tell.
I can see every single calorie that was not purged,
Every single pound that my body has held on to,
And every single ***** look in the mirror.

But for some reason, you don't see that.
You undress me and you call me beautiful.
It makes me want to *****.
You touch me and i flinch.
You tell me you love me and I ask how?

The only time I feel worthy is when I'm gagging into a toilet bowl with swollen eyes.

I could not tell you why
Or how
How many
Or when it starts
If it will end
But I can tell you one thing, dear friend
The aftermath is more detrimental than
Nuclear weapons at the hands of evil
Restrict, binge, repeat
The Devil himself spoon feeds my mind
Restrict, binge, repeat
Every time
Restrict, binge, repeat
It's a cycle that has swallowed me, too
I fear this will become my life
Or be there always
Haunting me to the grave
Restrict, binge, repeat

i am cold in a winter that isn't
so much like winter

i am frozen in the idea of magazines
thinspo
and whatever the opposite of that is

it is still encouraging

i want a ballerina body
i want to surround myself in water and green tea
avocados

i want to be bendy
well, bendier
i want collar bones to push out
ribcage to jut out
thin arms
thin waist

i am tired of stretchmarks and sadness

I recite the thoughts I pray,
I do so everyday,
Just because I like to think
The others will go away.

I thank the Lord for being healthy,
For my body being capable,
I'm pleased that my system's stable.

This is so the fever of my mind,
Won't persist through till mornings light.

I guess it works every time.
You see I might have caught a glimpse,
Of this girl who was called Mia,
She didn't stay too long though;
They said she was sickness,
And I had to be better.

But sometimes I hear her calling,
Most of the time she's silent,
Although she kindly likes to visit.
She likes to play this game
Of thoughts,
But I know that I'm winning.
She wants me to join her team,
Apparently I can't make up my mind,
Or at least that's as it seems.

I thank the Lord for my good health,
And it's bad to contradict,
When I recite my blessings I remember,
This means I cannot make myself sick.

So next time Mia joins me,
For just a little bit,
I remind her of what I know is right,
Even if she doesn't like it.
I tell myself to remain my state of mind:
That I can't go back there
Not just 'one more time'.

Have you seen this girl called Mia?
If you do, please walk away.
I know that she will beg you,
Tell you she wants to stay.
After a while, you'll have taken the time to see,
That this girl called Mia,
Is not actually all that pretty.