Poetry

Anorexic Tale

It started off simply;

I weighed of 95 pounds I think.

I was smaller than a thimble,

And my tummy sunk as low as a sink.

But I surely wasn't pleased,

No, not at all,

As my eating habits got littler and littler,

'Til there was nothing of it at all.

93 pounds was next.

I smiled brightly at the progress.

But as the days grew more and more,

My stomach yearned for less and less.

I had given up on food completely now.

Dizziness coming to me recurrently.

Now I weighed 90 pounds;

Yes, 90!

I looked at the scale evilly pleased.

But one day, while I was walking about,

My legs and feet just gave out.

I could barely move a muscle,

As I began to shake.

Everything went black sooner than expected.

What seemed like only hours, but actually months later,

I awoke.

I saw my folks,

Tears and all,

Crying over my great fall.

Crying over the fact that I loved to be paper thin.

Crying over how I gave in.

I was later sent to a nicer home,

Where everyone was like me.

I grew and grew until I was strong.

Strong enough to walk.

Strong enough to speak up.

Strong enough to just live this life.

Strong enough to smile for all that care.

Strong enough to love being here.

Now, there's something to learn from this anorexic tale.

It's not being you, makes a better ending.

It's that it doesn't matter if you're big or small,

Or round wasted or skinny.

None of those matter at all.

What matters is if you grow to be confident, proud, and strong.