the anatomy of my eating disorder(s)— a poem by danika

she materializes

as a slender woman,

neck thin

and thighs apart,

stomach concave and ribs

like a ladder.

her collarbones threaten to puncture skin

to tear the diaphanous dermis webbed with purple and green,

veins and arteries,

to give a glimpse of her ruby red

thick like maple syrup,

coagulating and coating every surface it touches,

bitter like the coffee she inhales,

black with no creamer.

she drinks cool water in place of meals,

feeling it run down her throat, her esophagus

and settle in the pit of her belly

soothing the ache that ripples through

when her stomach protests to the void.

or, she forces down three big macs,

the grease of fries that coat her tongue

at the back of her mind,

something she will scrape off with her teeth,

something she will regret.

glugging diet soda

like splenda removes the sin of eating

only to find her fingers

dancing down her throat in purgatory.

her twenty two inch waist

plays the perfect centrepiece

of her hourglass shape,

upholding her torso

like wilting flowers

effervescent in their living,

effervescent in their death,

dainty and delicate

no different than a china doll.

her lips lifted,

eyes lively,

but only when she drinks in her form

all ridges and dips

of skin and bone—yes. exactly that.

skin and bone.

she is skin and bone, and

bone and skin

not an inkling of fat

but an inkling of muscle

that keeps her body docile

that keeps her in control,

she is skin and bone,

she,

is the better version of me.