These bundles of wishes
Are painted by destructive bones
gnawing at flesh searching
through the stuttering frostbite.
Each Stare of the knife.
Each constant
Reminder.Each.Tick.On.The.Clock.

The words have become ritual
The cruelty, repeated.
I’ve become a slave to this name.
Each calorie,
A wrong doing.
Each bite, getting harder.
Gulp of shame
Cup of self pity.
The list grows colder.
The walk becomes longer.
The days don’t rest when
It becomes midnight.

My lungs
Filled with every trigger
That has built this house of pain.
The walls are stained
Red. Tumbling. Falling.
The lips arent mine
As they twist pain to pleasure
Whispering “do not eat”
The mock multiplies,
Until each scar
replies with remorse.

Bulimia, he says.  And I nod.
And I know.