Relapse At the beginning of senior year, I thought I had gotten rid of my distorted eating Felt like my body finally deserved food Told myself I could drink something other than sparkling water Didn’t feel the need to suppress my appetite with the taste of menthol cigarettes That the number of calories in a stick of gum didn’t matter anymore I call it distorted eating because it didn’t hurt the way you are supposed to when you have an eating disorder. There was never any lurching over toilet seats, Measuring wrists with my fingers, No sunken in cheeks, My teeth did not yellow and my knuckles never callused From the food I couldn’t afford to digest. But every day I feel the black cloud that is guilt climb into my stomach and make a home in my digestive tract
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Playing god in whether or not I will feed myself something other than water. Tell me that vegetables are good and pasta is the bad I miss the feeling of drinking cold water on an empty stomach Feeling the icy cold liquid drain into my belly Finding its home in the satisfaction of making me feel full. I did not miss the voice in my head that screams at me To be beautiful, be pretty, skinny be perfect I dont feel perfect in this body This body that calculates calories like a math test This body that feels like it will break with a strong gust of wind This body I do not like This body that I starve into submission I wonder if I am the only one who is starving Wonder if The voices of girls just like me
