Email Poem

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Poem
if you saw me
the way i see myself
maybe you'd get it.

"count your calories,
read the nutrition panels,
diet,
exercise,"
i know. 

believe me,
i know. 

"it's for your health,"
turns into 
a chase
after my...
after your
ideal weight for me.
but you say it's mine.

I'm afraid of dying
because i worry they won't even be able
to lift my casket.

body positivity 
until you no longer fit
into any of the boxes
you were destined for,
not to mention the clothes.

foraging for a size at the end of
the clothes rack
because nothing near me will fit.

unable to read my poetry out loud,
because i can't speak without 
obnoxiously frequent breaths.

I don't care anymore.
i tried 
i really did.

but when a bite of rigatoni
turns into a fear of the scale,
i give up. 

looks when i order my food,
if not at me,
then at the portion,
fit for a giant.

that's what i am to you,
isn't it?
no longer human,
but a puzzle you just can't fix,
a mishaped piece you need to cut down 
to make it fit in its place.

fit. 
what i'd do to look
feel 
be
the embodiment of that word.
and by fit, 
i mean thin,
and by thin,
i mean skin.
and bones.
nothing more.
I don't want to be anything more.

I'm cringing at the word body
because i know it's something 
i will never like.

i never expected that response
from you too, 
i suppose. 

but i shouldn't be so surprised.
i saw the way you looked at me,
trying on
a hand-me-down
from someone five years my senior,
breaking the seams
as i struggle to fit an arm through.

i develop a fear of mirrors,
i deflect from the possibility of seeing
a reflect
of the error I've become.

breaking the binary of 
skinny or fat,
I've become something worse,
not something in between...
just.
worse.

I don't want to live like this anymore,
but it's too much now
to change.
so maybe I'll give up,
and maybe you can rest.
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