Her frail arms are twigs reaching out to me
Begging for help, her face is sunken and skeletal
This disease is slowly eating her from the inside
Weakly she clutches the counter, trying to stay upright
Unhealthy hazel eyes stare, dark and criticizing
Who is she?
It can’t be true.
I’m fat, I have a round face with two chins
Meaty hands that swallow anything I come in contact with
My pants can’t contain the fat, it spills out, embarrassingly
I have two tree stumps for thighs, it can’t possibly be…
I peer into the mirror.
When had it come to this?
I gasp again.
I only skipped a few meals and as it went along
That wasn’t working, I saw no progress
A few turned into more, and more into all of them
I felt those hunger pains, I was so proud of myself
I look more closely.
Is it really me?
A little balloon of pride arose but was quickly deflated
I can barely support myself, what had I done?
I looked like a skeleton with flesh and nothing more
I was revolted by my image, I was hideously weak
It was me.
I was starving myself.
I closed my eyes trying to regain my balance
But the world kept spinning, a blur of lights
I want to live I screamed loudly to deaf ears
I was disgusted with what I had become
I closed my eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem