For the days when
I was smaller,
much smaller...
One-hundred-and-nine
pounds
of jutting hips
and bones
and parchment skin.
That was my mission
and I was just
a little closer
to being the winner
of my private race.

Enter: you and what you did.
Loving me that way.
Making me eat,
torturing me.
Taking it all away from me,
the control over mouth
and mind.
Fleshing me out to cover
my skeleton.

Then you sent me home to fend
for myself.
Expecting me to continue.

Now Im on my way to
One-hundred-and-nine
or less.
You will be angry.
This will hurt you.
But I see bones again
and they are intoxicating.

01/13/2002

Posted on 01/13/2002
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