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Dying So I Can Live With Another Day

Thinness is a disease,
a sullen means of release,
that is, if you're into dying.
Thinness is a loud cry of
Hey Look At Me!
Oh, to be the apple
of all the eyes that see!
But it is tiresome.
Little girls dream of being straws,
breaking all of nature's laws
of ripeness.
Who needs breasts and restrictive bras?
Can you be so small
that no one will see your flaws?
Certainly,
there won't be much left to criticize.
Perhaps, thinness can be unwise, that is,
unless, you're into dying.
Thinness carved for me a new
Biafran jaw.
I could wrap my fingers/hands
around my waist and
draw circles around my eyes.
And no one saw my a** as I turned
my way around the corner.
Ordering, nibbling 500 calories
a day.
Isn't much of a way
to remain in this world,
in fact, it would be a tall order.
My teeth were rotting,
and I'd forgotten
how to kneel and pray.
I believed God was much too
busy with the other billions
to bother with me.
While I forgot who
mattered the most,
and played the perfect party host
smiling like Vanna
as I turned the world on with my charm
and moved the letters so quickly that no one
could spell the truth.
Today I weigh more then twice
my former self.
Its my insurance policy.


Copyright October 3, 2011 All Rights Reserved By Author
Melissa A Howells / Meloo of Tilt-a-World






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Dying So I Can Live With Another Day


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