More Like Her

Bile burns

her throat as she heaves

forth yet another candy bar

she hadn’t the will to turn down.

The cruel words

of both friend

and foe

ring in her ears,

as she strives to forget.

Jumbo

Julie. Fatass.

Thunder Thighs.

Pig.

Wide

load. Lard

butt.

Just one more,

do it fatass.

Tears run freely,

as she forces her finger down

once more

to bring the fat back up.

Why can’t I look like Catie?

Tiny screen made blurry

by her many tears,

Catie reads through

the endless tweets

taunts.

Unable to look any longer

she burries her face in the pillow,

but the words won’t leave.

Chicken

legs. Anorexic.

Pancake

chest. Bean Pole.

Twig.

Skinny Bitch.

Bulimic.

Her alarm adds to the chaos

already in her mind.

Reaching a thin arm over,

she quickly shuts it off,

not needing to add to the ringing already in her ears.

Wiping the tears

from her petite

face she forces herself out of bed.

Maybe today will be better.

She thinks, with little hope,

as she stuffs her bra,

hoping the pain

of paper towel rubbing her raw,

will be enough to end the taunts.

Why can’t I look like Julie?