if i  wasn't gay
would you still tell me i'm brave
if i didn't self harm
would you still tell me i'm strong
if i wasn't depressed
would you still say you love me
if i wasn't starving myself
would you still tell me i'm beautiful
if i didn't try to **** myself
would you still tell me life is worth living
if i didn't cry
would you still tell me i have every reason to smile
if i wasn't scared
would you still hold my hand
if i didn't have insomnia
would you still stay up with me
if i didn't panic
would you still tell me that everything's alright
if i didn't love you
would you still  be kind
if i  didn't try
would you stop trying too?
if i wasn't broken
would you still try to fix me?

i don't want to be
uninteresting.

I binge on poems:
Poems about broken glass
And broken people.

I allow myself
A missed meal,
A forgotten snack.

How innocuous,
The blissfully ignorant
Rumble of my stomach.

But I don't starve,
Oh no-
I was a puker.

My greed takes over
In the haze of smoke
And the smell of his cologne.

I'm fine,
I'm fine,
I'm fine.

I'm too fat
To be sick,
Really.