When was the first time I felt
like chewing a piece of chocolate that melts
Needed more thought than
the automatic movement of my mouth?
When was the first time
I thought it’d be okay if I went without
Breakfast that day, I figured
The less, the better
I can’t remember the first time
I jogged around the block at 5am
because I woke up remembering
how much pasta I had for dinner.
Feeling like I was watching myself
from somewhere far away.
I do remember the first time
I sat in my room barely able to move
with nothing left in me
not even to grant me
a few tears
I remember the first time,
the surprise of satisfaction overwhelm me
when I lift up my shirt and step on that scale
to show that I have achieved
some pointless goal that had
engulfed my soul
I don’t remember when it became routine
No Breakfast, Or Lunch or Dinner.
They were haunting me.
Eating me alive.
I remember dreaming, weirdly so,
that Alice in Wonderland cake
EAT ME.
Looked like a dare,
a threat.
It was then, I remember,
wondering if I’d be like this forever
trapped in a world
where food looks like a dare to
EAT ME.
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