Warning: Poem may be triggering
This poem is not about how I beat anorexia.
I wish I could write that poem
I always liked clean breaks and happy endings
But this is not a happy ending.
This is real.
I’ve done what I can
keeping up appearances
The good girl
The smart one
I’ve done a damn good job, don’t you think?
And I know you want your little girl back
And I wish I could give you that too.
But I am not a bad apple
You can’t cut out the rotten bits
This is not burnt toast
You can’t scrape this off
Or hide it with butter
Or throw it away and make a new slice
This is not a cherry pit
You can’t just eat around it
There are no devils or angels fighting on my shoulders
I am the devil
I’m the angel too.
All I can do is swallow this bad apple whole
Savor it bite by mushy brown bite
And maybe one day I’ll be just like I used to be
And maybe I won’t
So do you want a taste or not?
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