Dwindling Numbers To Win The Contest

Weep little lion girl

Clumps form between my fingers as I rake chewed-up nails through overstayed curls

No thoughts but the ones holding the doors shut on reason, I feel nothing, I am nothing, I resent nothing, I love nothing. 

My hands, the same ones my teeth graze when I’m anxious,

that is to say always,

do not tremble because I do not allow it,

and though my stomach twists like curdled milk I will not remedy it. 

Float to the bathroom with spotted vision 

Stand upon the podium and ask for my number

a validating digit blinks at me,

validating the pain to quiet the growls inside. 

  • Author: Salem (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 7th, 2023 22:27
  • Comment from author about the poem: "nothing tastes as good as skinny feels" - K.M
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 0
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Comments +

Comments1

  • David Wakeling

    I read this twice but I guess I'm too dumb to understand what is going on.But hey what would I know

    • Weep little lion girl

      Thanks for the feedback. Maybe I should work on my context being clearer. It's about using the dwindling numbers of weight on the scale to validate an eating disorder.



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