Words From the Other Side. Rachel Winter

for me.

      Tiny wrists, skinny thighs.

      Like the pictures I see online,

      All those things I want on me.

      "A water please,"

      "I don't drink non-diet"

      Only calorie-free drinks for me.

      A bag of candies,

      Some chocolate bars,

      In a box under my bed stashed away from me.

      Pleated skirts, printed tee shirts

      Patterned tights, skinny jeans

      None of those things fit me.

      Diet pills, measuring tapes

      Only green tea, please,

      Only a skinny legend is good enough for me.

      So Cold

      They jest at me, their words are knives

      Meant to cut me, to tear my skin

      And leave me barren, bleeding out.

      But their blades are dull, they stab at me

      With Easy Bake spoons and melted plastic

      Nothing but minor inconvenience.

      Being unaffected by harmful words

      Should be considered a virtue,

      A victory against wasted energy.

      But instead of taking a victory

      I sharpen their melted plastic spoons

      And stab them back, painting on my smile with their blood.

      Your words don't hurt me,

      My words will always hurt you.

      I've bathed my tongue in acid, just for you.

      He called me cold, he called me distant.

      He called me heartless, he called me apathetic.

      They all thought that he was wrong...

      But he was the only one who was right about me.

      I am so cold, so heartless,

      So distant and apathetic

      That I don't care if you shed a tear.

      Why should I?

      They hurt me, I'll hurt them back.

      No one will ever break through this armour.

      An impenetrable fortress in which I am sealed,

      A comforting home in a world I'm lost in.

      A place where I am safe.

      From you, from your words.

      From them, from their eyes.

      From myself, from my venom-saturated tongue.

      From the truly vile woman I can become.

      Hungry

      The first time I went hungry, I realized

      Not that it made me feel pretty.

      Not that it made me feel strong.

      Not that it made me feel like the ethereal

      Flawless,

      Perfect,

      Charming

      Young woman I'd seen promised to me.

      No, first time I went hungry, I realized

      That it made me feel like for once

      In and among the disaster I lived

      I was in control.

      I was the conductor of my own destruction.

      And that's why I became addicted.

      I became addicted to being the master of my own demise.

      I became addicted to being the only person who decided what went into my body.

      I became addicted to the power over others

      I became addicted to the power over myself.

      Inside me grew an unending greed

      An undying need to succeed

      Watch me wither, disappear

      Call me a control freak, I wear it with pride

      Call me evil, I shall oblige

      Call me a bitch, I will not cry

      Call me a lapdog, not a lash I'll bat

      Call me selfish, I will laugh

      Your words don't phase me, I've run cold

      Going hungry made me bold.

      A fallen angel, my soul is old.

      Let me be, alone and hungry

      I ask nothing from you,

      only from myself;

      Control over every aspect of me.

      Skinny

      Mirror, mirror

      on my wall

      The reflection that you show me

      Grotesque and inhuman, not beautiful at all.

      Choking me, you're starving me.

      You bruise my skin,

      You break my heart and pluck its strings

      Willpower keeps me pure, food is a sin

      All across your surface

      I only read one word

      Printed across like pen in ink

      It cuts into me just like a sword

      Skinny, skinny

      All across

      Thin like a feather,

      Flying through the air, an albatross

      So light I walk atop the snow

      So fragile not a single footprint in my wake

      The hungry clouds my head

      Every step I take my bones, they ache.

      The fat girl in this mirror

      She knows nothing of my plight

      Yet still she lays down on the floor

      Bawling there in a room with no light.

      She cries and cries,

      Her skin bruised blue and black

      Spine aching on the hardwood floor

      She cuts herself no slack.

      Hard work for nothing

      She's all alone, no one sees no one cares

      She won't change, no one worries

      Buying new jeans, half a dozen pairs.

      Elation from starvation,

      All she feels anymore,

      Exhaustion always setting in at night

      Picking up on its bedtime war

      Mirror, oh mirror,

      On the wall,

      She