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Nervosa Assumptions
The lover of food.
Eater of almost everything.
Most attempts in not skipping meals...
A success.
Yet, it will never erase the questions.
The comments and complaints.
The fears and worries.
I say: "Believe me."
Aiming to clarify to everyone that I am not who they see.
Anorexic?
No.
Bulimic?
No.
Diet?
No.
My responses and honesty goes from one ear to the other and straight past the window.
I am too "scrawny."
I am too "weak."
What can a "skeleton" do?
Won't this "stick" snap in half?
This "scrawny skeleton" has a special trait called "high metabolism."
No, this is not a trend.
No, this is not a new "diet."
I am naturally born like this.
Unable to do anything to fix this.
Food can only offer my stomach a small kiss.
A quick romantic exchange before invisible hands rip open my mouth and tear my stomach to retrieve the sustenance back.
I can only be temporarily satiated.
Monster or not,
it can hardly be silenced.
As for most things,
there is a noise to accompany it.
Mine says: Feed me, feed me, feed me!
You know cannot say no to me.
If you do,
I will agitate you, too.
No amount of food will suffice to what is due.
-Snow that Flutters down like Feathers