So I stopped eating.
In my dreams my pale legs grew tall and strong
 like that old oak tree you used to climb 
 to get away from me.

 I only wanted to kiss you
the way the old ladies at church said
angels kissed my face. 

How my freckles were born
and born again,
tiny constellations blooming
on my pale white skin.
During the spring before I walked to school
I hid them under seven layers of makeup
and stole cough syrup on the way
for breakfast
and an energy drink
for dinner. 

When I was little they told me I could be anything I wanted,
so I studied the models in the magazines
traced their tiny bodies with my fingertips
and wondered if there was a degree
for loving yourself unconditionally.  

When you found me I smoked so many cigarettes
ashes were born from me
and born again
on the breath of a Marlboro Light
that made me gag,
but I insisted.
Punishment was too sweet.  

Last it was the hair,
I loved it too much, you see
just like you
that is what people do not seem to understand
so I had to let it go
It was the equivalent of shooting your jaw off,
but not as messy
or inconvenient
but by the stares,
you’d think that was what I had done.

People look at me,
the guys shrug it off
but the girls look,
grasp their own locks
and wonder how I could ever dare to part.
I wonder myself
how could they even care
about something so small
when we are on a tiny planet
in an infinite universe?

I guess it is more important to be wanted
than to merely


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