My parents don’t know
why I excuse myself to the restroom
every
time I finish a meal
My friends don’t know
why I drank that
nail polish remover
My brother doesn’t know
why I weigh myself
every morning
and
hold back tears while standing on that scale,
looking down at my around 110
pound
horror
displayed on the small screen beneath me
I do all this
because I
am at risk
I am at risk
of losing
someone
who I wouldn’t know how to
breathe
without
Much less
eat the little amount that I do
His leaving
has absolutely nothing to do
with my weight
And I know
this is ridiculous
But the irrational, unchangeable corner of my mind
has a way
with words
that I cannot resist
And it tells me
that if maybe I
weighed a little less
and maybe
if I looked a little prettier,
He’d be that much more reluctant
to let me go
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