To be beautiful, to be perfect
--this poem references eating disorders and mental illness-- What I Would Say To... Sometimes I think you're my oldest friend. The bones. But I know you're not. Sometimes I think I miss you, the aches. But I know I don't. All the time, I think I need you. But I know I deserve more. Actual more. Not one pound less, one bone more, make me gaunter make me "more" Skinnier, prettier, flimsier when all I wanted was control. Maybe life will stop screaming if I never have anything more. I would say to this unspecified eating disorder: You were a broken scared little girl, who's body would soon be as...