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Control? MAG
My hands shake and I am losing my grip.
My jaw quivers and something or someone else
takes over my mind.
My toes twitch with anticipation to move.
Above all, my stomach is tight.
It is full.
I want it all out of me.
It makes me feel dirty, gross, self-conscious.
I do not want people to look at me.
I suck in my expanded belly to illude everyone but myself.
Please be skinny.
Please look thin.
Please get this food out of me!
I’d rather have the claws of hunger picking at my bones
than this gluttony.
My feet find the floor and I tiptoe out to kneel in front of my weakness.
I go to bed with acid in my mouth, a scratchy throat,
guilty fingers, but an empty stomach.
I am defeated.
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