In the deep corners of 3am,
I find her.

50 red lines
Etched and sketched across
The canvas in which you live
That was what you left
On the day you said
You’d stop

800 calories
Brittle nails and
An iron deficiency
That was what you left
On the day you chose
Recovery

food
why can't I get my mind off of you
                  every
                       single
                             second
never skinny enough
never happy enough
never
enough

Counting... Always... Counting.

A cup of herbal tea, maybe with some sugar.
If I feel up to it.

Maybe some soup, grilled cheese.
If I can stomach it.

Dinner. Whatever mom makes.
My only supervised meal.

Tired, all day... Every day.
Drowning in college papers.

The curves I worked so hard to get back...
Well. They're nearly gone.

Protruding hip bones,
Protruding collar bones,
Boney fingers,
Pale skin,
Fantastic figure and pretty ribs,
Cold toes and bad circulation.

Heart murmurs... Shaky breathing... Migraines... Exhaustion... Confusion... Lethargy... Weight loss

Shaking, Shaking, Shaking...
Shivering?

Gotta go make a cuppa, warm up a bit.

But... what's left for me to be healthy for, anyway?

I'll take a bath to warm up instead






Probably.

Cold, ivory moon
hangs in still autumn sky.
Keen harvest sickle.

old routines are still familiar
like church services every Sunday morning
praise team practice early
the warm sun walking through the parking lot on me
and afterwards getting out as fast as I can
I just hated the lingering
but I was on that stage every Sunday singing
if I could move the elderly in the front rows
my ego was pleased
let's worship jesus on our knees
I never did bend down

no one knows of heaven
the quest for proof is moot
our existential dread cements Risk’s value
overshadowed by Reward,
undersold by humanity,
we trudge along
waiting for anyone but ourselves,
any thing but our own,
to try and prove paradise
but I’ve seen it
it’s here on earth
and it rests behind your eyelids