Bridges of rubber band
of twine do not bend under your emptiness
the handsomeness of starvation, of Ana has you blind.
She is a surgeon
She will remove you piece-mail.
I am collecting the hair that falls exhausted from your head,
to bind a textbook,
a book I will write in your name about control
having it and losing it and needing it
and the freeing beauty of being human, of need, the pleasantry of a satisfied hunger.
Let shame bleed out under the table.
This is your body. This thinly flowing soup your blood.
This is our last supper.
*There was a time in my life where I used to pour over pro Ana, thinspiration websites. I bookmarked pictures of girls so thin their bones would show and would use those photographs as inspiration not to eat the next time I was hungry. The pro anorexia world is dark, lonely, and evil and I feel pain for the girls and women who are lost in its vortex.