TW : WEIGHT
this chapter deals with weight obsession so it could be a bit sensitive for some.
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112.
112.
112.
damn it.
its not enough. the pudginess in my back says so.
the pinch in between my fingers screams at me over the shitty dubstep from the attic; caiden's desperate attempt at masculinity shaking the entire ground floor.
i step off the strategically placed scale and stare at the reflection before me; the jut of my hips, the sharpness of my collarbones, the nothing behind my eyes..
it's one of my good days — and if i stand straight enough, no one can see the pouch of insistent fat bulging out of my lower stomach.
fuck organs.
i'd snatch both kidneys and my pancreas out myself if it meant i could reach 105.
i can't do that though, so i settle for the next best thing.
something familiar, something of comfort, something unsanitary as hell but i'd hugged the toilet drunk before and survived so i won't complain now.
it's really not that bad once you get used to the burn in your throat, the blood and the mucus, and the water in your eyes.
like a sweet release, like a step forward, closer and closer to that number.
closer and closer to laughing back at that fucking scale in triumph.
i'll get below 100 one day, for now we'll just aim for 105 and pray i make it out of the bathroom on my two feet this time...
