one day i stared at my plate,
it seemed all i cared about, was my weight.
i simply wouldn't accept the fact,
so she and i, we made a pact.
she told me i could make size zero;
i told her she would be my hero.
she said all i had to do was starve,
and into my skin she started to carve.
replacing food with exercise,
on homecoming, only cared about dress size.
i hated food i hated myself,
all i had left was this decking health.
but no, i didn't care.
i refused to go anywhere.
i refused to eat,
i wouldn't be beat.
food was an enemy.
ana was a friend to me.
it's all I had left,
those who wanted to help- a theft.
they wanted me "better"-
meaning they wanted me fatter.
if i could starve the rest of my days,
i would be happy, in the best of ways.
j.s.
