#anathoughts

work is what makes it hard to just fast for days

I count my worth in empty plates,

In whispered numbers, measured weights.

A mirror speaks with sharpened tongue,

It tells me I am still not enough.

If beauty lives in hollow bones,

Then I’ll build castles out of stones.

I’ll silence hunger, swallow tears,

And feed the voice I’ve feared for years.

Control is all that feels like mine,

Each skipped meal feels almost divine.

Not joy, not peace, not being free,

Just proving something… endlessly.

I chase a girl I’ll never meet,

With smaller hands and lighter feet.

She smiles without a single scar,

She’s always just a little far.

My stomach aches, my body pleads,

But guilt outgrows my simplest needs.

The emptier I let myself become,

The louder beats the endless drum.

Maybe if I’m thin enough,

The world will think that I’m enough.

Maybe love won’t slip away,

Maybe they’ll finally choose to stay.

So I bargain with another day,

Trade pieces of myself away.

One more calorie I refuse,

One more part of me I lose.

Still every goal becomes too wide,

The finish line keeps moved aside.

Because the truth I cannot outrun

Is hunger never makes me someone.

I’m not starving just for skin,

I’m starving for the war within.

For silence. Worth. A softer view.

For someone saying, “You are you.”

And maybe one day I will see

The girl I’ve spent so long to be

Was never hidden underneath.