I haven’t been eating lately. I sneakily throw food away and pretend i ate it. Like my peach yogurt this morning (down the toilet). I lie and lie and lie and can’t stop. Mom says i don’t live in truth and maybe i dont but i dont have much alternative. I can’t even remember when i started chronically lying to my parents and being so freaking smooth about it. Every minute, every second my hunger pains crumple me – but they feel like winning like the pain translates to victory and honor. I was always kindof a masochist now wasn’t i? I don’t need food. I just want to be so thin and beautiful. I want to be able to fit into really beautiful designer clothes that don’t make size 12s. Collarbone and hipbone honored like a goddess.
My mom is furious at me but I can’t stop now. Not since i’ve been losing. I have to be 115. I will be. She thinks i’ll go back to the hospital again that I’ll be locked away with a key or shoved into an ambulance. I’ve never gone into an ambulance without being handcuffed first and I wont go without a fight that’s for sure.
I’m sitting in my world literature class right now, and we are talking about how in poetry images become something more – they become symbols and that we should always be looking and thinking – does it mean more? And I have been thinking. I want to find higher meaning. Not eating is like prayer to me – like being so empty that something more can fill you. But in the end, I’m just destroying something – the person that i used to be. I’m not sure if that person is beautiful or not, but she is real and being replaced by something more – by the god/goddess.
Each pang of need stifles the mind
The idea of food feels like failure
You want to be the skeleton in your closet
Thin-eternal and full of righteousness
Greasy, filthy, succulent, disgusting
Your plate is heaped with fat and disease
So you don’t eat anything
You can’t. You have to reach nirvana.
But eventually you get hungry enough
That you start to consume your own heart
The warm sticky ideas and feelings
It bleeds emotion and you were so numb before
You eat your own heart out and feel sorrow
A deep longing – a grief you never knew existed
They say when you are hungry enough
When you have denied yourself any kind of pleasure
You begin to eat out your heart,
But you will never be satisfied, never be full
The pain and loss overwhelms you
And the mirror shows a skeleton.
by me, xXx