a poem highlighting the life of an eating disordered teen. autobiographical.
i’m seven years old, sitting on ms.k’s alphabet rug on the dirty classroom floor.
my hands cup the skin on my thighs, as i sit and wonder why the other girl’s don’t look like mine.
i’m almost ten, delicate ballet music plays as point shoes from the devil leap across the floor.
i look in the mirror, and take a deep breath, sucking in my leotarded stomach that isn’t as flat as it “should be.”
i’m eleven, pulling my soccer jersey from my chest, and wishing it would stay.
ignoring the ache in my ribs from a sports bra three sizes too small, an attempt to hide what i don’t want.
i’m twelve, watching as my friends get ready for winter formal.
i sit quietly on the bathroom counter, praying to the heavens that my dress would be the same size as theirs.