who I used to be

sometimes I think about who I used to be 

a collection of broken pieces

numbers on a scale, dropping lower

space between my thighs, growing bigger

ribs distended underneath my flat chest

collarbones protruding from a sallow-skinned body

lips that tinged blue in sixty degree weather

hands with a permanent tremor from low blood sugar

and then my period disappeared.

my body was so weak from its lack of nutrients that 

its functions were shutting down 

closing up shop like street vendors as the first frost approaches. 

I was starving myself to death. 

and all I could do was stare greedily into the mirror 

turning this way and that, scanning for any ounce of fat

I began sketching lines across the planes of my torso, 

underneath my biceps and across my legs

as if I were an architect, making blueprints for a new body

one without any fat at all

as if I didn't need the old one

every time the demons came they all demanded their pound of flesh

and suddenly they had taken so much that I had none left to give

their haunting left me hollow, 

my body void of its value. 

they demanded a higher price,

but I could not let them take my life

not when they had already taken my spirit. 

Reviews

[Serendipity Planet]

I love your description of what and how that terrible Anorexia works through your brave poem