An ode to my disorder

To the tiny marks on my thighs, roads filled with tears and voices filled with lies

To the hip bones that once protruded, a sweet reminder of what I was doing

To the size 4 shorts crumpled in the corner, my worst nightmare but proudest moment wrapped up in three inches of denim

To the one size smaller I wanted to be, just a few more pounds, just a few more weeks

To the girl I was, to the woman I am. To the disease that has been my best friend

I’m sorry I miss you, I’m sorry you’re there. I’m sorry for forgetting not to care

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