The food that I eat is not food anymore
I’m a mathematician
Calculating the body I’m in
My parents were happy I was eating right
But come to find out I was dying
The bowl of fruit wasn’t nutritious
It was just 200 calories
Hunching over in the mirror
Crying to the song, “empty”
In gym class I remember distinctly
Playing a game that was supposed to be fun
But I had to sit out and watch
Any movement was followed with fatigue
It was probably from the 57 I had that morning
My eyelids were 20 pounds themselves
I refused to ask for help
I was perfect and on my way to success
Even if success meant this path lead to death
My XS leggings were too loose
I cut down my intake to 500
500 numbers a day and less if I could
Not food, that’s not what it was
It was just something to pass me by
To escape the pounding hunger not in my stomach but in my mind
Dancing and jumping because I can literally float
Ethereal because I weigh the same as a paper boat
My thin hair is kept in a braid
To avoid any more unwanted shed
But it doesn’t matter I’m becoming thin!
Throw away my numbers into the trash can
I don’t deserve numbers
The only numbers that matter now are the ones on the scale
And the ones that appear on my watch after a workout
So I can decifer the amount of numbers I can consume now
But this was the past I am healthy now
Or so everyone thinks
Thoughts of numbers are slowly starting to creep
It’s taking over again
And I’m beginning to think I’ll only eat numbers until I’m dead.
© Waiteing