Perfection

Perfection

I want to be a dancer

But my dad says that dancers are skinny.

I want to be an actress

But my mother tells me

That the camera adds fifteen pounds.

I do not need fifteen pounds to be added

But one hundred pounds taken away.

My body is a temple

But the walls have grown too big.

My mouth is a sinkhole

Swallowing everything in sight,

A look in the mirror ends that.

Disgust is all I can see

When I look in the judgmental mirror.

The voice in my head tells me

That I do not need food.

She tells me that I will soon be perfect

All I need to do is listen to her advice:

Only drink diet coke

Cancer over calories

Food will never taste as good as skinny feels.

Cigarettes are your best friend

Your lungs may be black

But at least you are a size zero.

Your outside should be prettier

Than your inside anyways.

It has been seven days since I last ate

I can taste the perfection

Or maybe I am just tasting my teeth rotting in my mouth.

I ate last night and threw up this morning

Perfection does not eat

Perfection does not eat.

Perfection works out eight times a week

Eight times a day

Eight times an hour

Until your body gives out from exhaustion.

Perfection sleeps with laxatives by the bed

Perfection eats a gulp of air for breakfast and lunch

Perfection smokes a cigarette for dinner

Perfection drinks a diet coke for dessert.

I ended up in the hospital

Too thin

Too brittle of bones

Passed out one too many times

Ribs protruding the skin that covers them…

The doctor says that I am anorexic

I ask him if I am perfect yet.