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Suck it up

My stomach wants to be slim, pure, empty,
Yet the phrase “dinner is ready!”
Never fails to tempt me.
Suck it up and puke it out.

The porcelain bowl filled to the brim,
Every time hunger comes, I begin to feel grim.
My body, A battlefield, ravaged with envy.
These girls on social media, “God I wish that was me”.

I eat these feelings of shame and guilt,
I wish the way I see food could be rebuilt.
This self-inflicted trial feels foolish.
But anytime I eat I can't help but do this.
Purging my pain, a twisted routine,
Now my guts are spilled, again I ate too much.

Why does being empty feel so clean?
Eating begins to feel like a punishment,
I punish myself by touching the back of my throat.
“She needs to be skinnier,” they wrote.

The bathroom became my favorite place.
But this scale shines in my face.
Every morning I weigh myself and cry,
Counting calories is the only way I make it by.

Scrapping my esophagus with the tips of my fingers,
The feeling of my shame always lingers.
I wrap my fingers around my wrist,
I try to remind my brain that I can do this. 

Another day without eating, shameful.
Another day without losing weight, shameful.
The journey it makes feels shorter than it is.

Copyright © milo yippie

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Book: Shattered Sighs