the first time I ate alone I cried.
someone told me to eat in front of a mirror,
but when I’ve mirrored everyone my whole life,
I’m not sure how else to react when I see myself;
except cry. even when I was alone I imagined you were watching me,
judging me,
loving me,
when I picked a song, I picked it for you
when I picked my clothes, I imagined you’d see me, squeezed into a shape I wanted you to love.

shape shifting
there’s so much space that I left for you,
and I starved so I wouldn’t fill it.
but now I’m eating alone
and crying.
maybe I’ll eat enough protein today and grow into the space-
maybe the songs I picked for you, the clothes I wore for you-
were all picked for me…

I don’t know what song I’d pick if I accepted that you didn’t love me.
I don’t know what I’d wear if I didn’t want you to see it,
and maybe I’ll do it anyways; until I recognize myself
through my eyes and
not yours.