“Distorted”
I see my body in ways that you can’t see
I lift my shirt up. I turn sideways—on the right, on the left, then from the front.
I stare, and stare, until I realize there are tears in my eyes.
I stop for a minute—then I sob my whole heart out.
I can’t see my body the way you do.
All I do is stare until my skin turns red.
My skin feels numb, like I can’t feel it anymore.
I scratch at myself vigorously, until I get up and look at myself in the mirror.
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I’ve destroyed myself.
What they said was true.
You become the very person you hate.
It’s ironic, isn’t it?
You become obsessed with the image of being skinny,
but no one tells you that in the end,
the only thing you consume…
is yourself.
Day by day,
you wear yourself down
until you can’t stand what’s left.
So I continue it.
I continue the cycle—
of not eating at all today,
then eating so much tomorrow.
There are even days
where I don’t eat at all,
and then find myself bingeing at night.
But that’s okay.
I’ll just throw it up right after.
That’ll stop me from gaining weight,
right?
The image I have in store for myself is not the same as the image I have of now.
I have completely—
and successfully—
destroyed myself.
