it starts off with a quick search

to find the number of calories

in a single slice of bread

and then you're not quite

sure what exactly happens

because you have 55 in

a slice; 46 in a cup and 469

in the dinner your mother makes

you think it would be nice

to have a little less fat,

collarbones and thinner thighs

but then before you even realize

what has happened; what you've done

you can count your ribs as

you run your cold fingers oveer

raised bones and bruised flesh

skipping one meal a day turns

to not eating for five in a row

and your cheeks fall in, your thighs

do not touch; you will not let them

it has become a nightly ritual to

step on the scale, then reward yourself

with two days worth of no food

and punish yourself with the same

and it all happens way too soon

because one night you're eating dinner

and the next you're hunched over a

toilet;your hair pullled back with two

fingers shoved down your throat, one

hand on your stomach as you heave

and push and cry because there is

fat in you, in your thighs that do not

touch, and your hipbones that form

a valley of sorts, and you realize

that it all began with a search