November 19, 2011
By Anonymous

Dry bread chokes me as I swallow
Thickening in my throat,
But I don’t need butter.
It’s slimy and saturated with calories.
It is responsible for the fat dangling on my arms,my thighs, my sides.
Years ago I used to eat the butter packets at restaurants
When I was young and naive,
Too hungry too wait for my food.
I can wait now.
They don’t understand that here.
The hospital people think I should have it now.
They force me to swallow.
Until I can feel the butter melt from my lips,
Growing saltier as it mingles with tears.
I don’t need butter.

The author's comments:
This poem is about a painful struggle that too many teen girls go through. The reasoning is twisted and sad, but the story is real.

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