Everything's Dark.

Diet

"It's just a diet,"

she whispers to herself while holding her stomach in pain.

"I'll stop when I'm thinner,"

she cries while leaning over the porcelain bowl.

"I'm doing this for me and no one else,"

she lies while gulping down another glass of water.

"Eventually I'll recover."

But with those words, the scale is still the enemy,

and oversized clothes are her friends.

She's still thankful she has a gag reflex and

a secret stash of laxatives in her bathroom.

Every night she wakes up and burns 700 calories or more.

The dizziness and light-headedness don't phase her anymore,

"Eventually, I'll recover,"

she repeats when her frail body is laying in a hospital bed

and IV's are pumping fluids into her body.

But she doesn't, because skinny

was always too far away and it was

something she desperately needed.

Her intention was to lose weight,

but she lost herself instead.