Everything was clean and organized. Except the one little shoe box sitting in the middle of the room with the slip of paper taped to the top.
DO NOT OPEN UNTIL YOU'RE SKINNY
Skinny. Will I ever be skinny? If I stop eating and start running maybe I can become skinny enough to wear these clothes.
I just hope I'll be happy.
That I'll be happy starving.
Maybe with my obsession of becoming skinny I'll forget the hunger pains, I'll stop hearing the grumble and tumble of my stomach, but I'll be skinny.
When my rib bones poke out from under my skin and I can count each one; that's when I can wear the skinny clothes.
When I no longer have to suck in my stomach every second; then I can wear my skinny clothes.
When I can't breathe from the tightness in my throat because of my hunger; that is when I'll be skinny enough to wear those clothes.
The skinny clothes will fit just in time for that sober moment of death where I forget why I ever started this.
And maybe I'll realize that it was stupid to ever start this in the first place.
YOU ARE READING
Polaroid
PoetryMoments of time captured through writing. {Cover made by @wreckclifford} WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE MAY OCCUR
