Slam Poetry

Dear Ana

It was different.
Without you here.
I smiled with my friends.
And ate a good meal.
I didn't stop once to think what you would have to say.

When I got home.
You were all that was on my mind.
You image tormented me.
The image of skinny.

I never understood,
Why it was just me.
But I guess I'll have to be skinny.

Skinny.
Collar bones.
Hip bones.
Skinny hips.
Cheeks.
No longer plump.
Nothing will be as great as the way skinny feels.

So I listened to you.
I did as you said.
Skip that meal.
Drink water, after water.
Skip another meal.
Drown out the pain.

Days moved to weeks.
Weeks to months.
Your advice was all I could think about.
You had taken over my head.
Destroyed me.

I was gone.

So Dear Ana,
Fuck you.

HERE'S MY THIRD POEM.
I'M PROUD OF THIS ONE.
GO BACK AND LOOK AT THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS, AND THEY WILL HAVE AN EXPLANATION AT THE BOTTOM.

This is for my anorexia. Ana destroyed me a while ago. And here is me returning the favor.