eunoia | Fall 2021

Page 16

Anorexia/Self Harm hotdogwater Poem I was eighty pounds. The doctors didn't blink an eye, and honestly I didn't either. I never thought I was fat, not really. I decided long ago that my body did not deserve food. After all, it had never worked properly for me anyways. I was fading from existence. Completely unaware of my illness, or maybe I just didn't care. I liked seeing my bones, it made me feel little. As if little somehow also made me worthy of love; the love I felt I didn't deserve. As if less of me would be easier to love. Like a plant with no soil I couldn't grow All alone in an illness that no one could see that I had I look back now and I wonder how they didn't see. I was eighty pounds.

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