by Emily Hopkins
tw: disordered eating, diet culture
Silently, they sit at the table
Stealing my attention.
Unwelcome, uninvited,
Curdling my anticipation.
No one else seems to see them
So I ignore them too.
Make my choices rebelliously,
As if I never knew.
But they know the most delicious bait,
to lure out my old ways.
My spirit gurgles like a drain,
My pleasure is displaced.
I’ll just eat half.
I’ll run tomorrow.
It doesn’t have to stay down.
And as I think they will consume me,
A seductive scent rolls in.
Caresses me to season my soul,
Stirs me to not let them win.
So I sip and slurp and salivate,
Lick the shimmer from their grease.
Masticate their numbers,
Refuse to let them feast.