I'm Fat

   

Her body is a skeleton;
skin stretched over bone
pulled tight
an animal hide left to dry
under the sun.
Veins are twisted blue spaghetti noodles
mapping their way
over this empty frame.
Dull eyes sunken deep
into an obsessed head,
a delusional mind overflowing.
Nutritional facts, exercise programs,
beauty magazine models
spill to the floor and trail behind her.
Scarred wrists
a constant reminder
of the beginning of the end.
Meet my sister, anorexic and bulimic.
I know you've met her before.
She's the girl who always says:
"I'm fat."