Olivia

 

Bridges of rubber band

of twine                                               do not bend under your emptiness

the handsomeness of starvation, of Ana has you blind.

She is a surgeon

She will remove you piece-mail.

I am collecting the hair that falls exhausted from your head,

to bind a textbook,

a book I will write in your name about control

having it and losing it and needing it

and the freeing beauty of being human, of need, the pleasantry of a satisfied hunger.

Let shame bleed out under the table.

This is your body. This thinly flowing soup your blood.

 

This is our last supper.

Dine.

*There was a time in my life where I used to pour over pro Ana, thinspiration websites. I bookmarked pictures of girls so thin their bones would show and would use those photographs as inspiration not to eat the next time I was hungry. The pro anorexia world is dark, lonely, and evil and I feel pain for the girls and women who are lost in its vortex.