Normal is Boring

I am nothing

Today someone turned to me at work and said "how small are you? God, I wish I was that small...what are you 90 pounds?"
I smiled and said "105...but I'm currently dipping..."

I lied I'm actually 110.

I am nothing but bones and lies and smiles.

I don't know why I lied.
It's only a 5 pound difference. And it's never really been about the weight it's been about the edges, but hey I lied anyways.

No one notices until you're gone...
but actually everyone notices. they just don't notice that something is wrong.

I am nothing but tears and edges and skin.

I like to think that I'm getting better but then I go to sleep hungry. I wake up hungry and the two pieces of bread will do.

I am nothing but longing stares and envy and pain.

There are so many logical reasons behind my size. My constraining diet because of my allergies. My work schedule. My lack of money.

They are my excuses that i tell other people.
They are my excuses I tell myself.
They are all false.

Because I can do better. I can be healthier. I can actually be living. But no

I am slowly dying

And how is that different from cutting, or burning, or smoking?

It's not