Skipped out on lots of food today.
For good reasons at first,
though it slowly turned into an evil decision.
I looked in the mirror at my exposed bones,
embraced that familiar tightness in my stomach,
and then I remembered.
I remembered how lonely it was...
the constant feeling like I was transforming into some sort of self-obsessed demon,
how I wanted to hide away from the whole world.
I'm proud of what I did next.
I laughed.
I finished getting dressed,
walked into the kitchen, then....
I ate a slice of leftover pizza.
Talking about this in the past tense is such a relief.
I am free.
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