year 1.

when i eat

i have become so afraid
of weight gain,
that i am glad i am bad at math.

all these numbers that
come back to haunt me,
taunt me for a lack of self control.
i remember how in seventh grade,
my body thrived off
two granola bars, an apple, a thrown
away sandwich, and
ice cold water.

i wish i could go back to that time,
and tell myself to eat more.
because my body now claims calories
are corrupting me,
doing nothing but evil to me.
because my body now believes
breaking a diet,
means i am out of control.
because my body is now not used to
eating regularly,
so it holds on to every bite of
every chew of every slice
of every lick of every swallow
of food i take.

i judge my hunger on the way
cold water settles in my stomach,
and i avoid staying downstairs
for too long.
i praise weight loss,
and shriek at my weight gain.

i stare at the mirror to remind myself
just how ugly i'll be
if i continue to eat leisurely.

-m