She could be
[picture] perfect--
& it wouldn't be enough.

Singing odes to Ephedra
& laxatives;;;
crying to the scale for comfort
& inhaling the sun as a substitute for food.

*She can taste the pointlessness*

& she can act
like her [weight]life depends on it
::: Because it does :::

((Napkins are for amateurs, darling))

"I want to be .s.o.
S-K-I-N-N-Y
my shadows ~disappear~
&& come back
somewhere between recovery
and {death}."

[Chew, chew, swallow .b.a.b.y.d.o.l.l.]
-- drown yourself in the purge;;
and peel the chipping enamel off
with shaking,
decaying fingers.

& when you come
;c;r;y;i;n;g; to me
about perfection being too hard---

Keep in mind-
you knew my name
before
I ever
CONSIDERED yours.