thin, pretty, fit in those jeans,
look like the girls in the magazines
a soft voice coarsely whispered.
she stank of insecurity and,
was made of an innocent’s tears.
she fed on the hardships of others
and thrived on their screams,
she was my friend Ana and she was always there.
beautiful, flawless, skinny
something you will never be
if you continue to eat,
the small strangled voice shrieked.
she stole my happiness
and locked it up with a key.
she clung to me like a second-skin,
she was my friend Ana and she was always there
don’t eat, don’t eat
the chapped voice tickled my ear
stop I slowly whispered,
my knees buckled as I fell,
don’t eat, don’t eat, she nagged at me,
STOP, ANOREXIA, PLEASE STOP,
I screamed hoping she would hear,
but she was my friend Ana and she was always there