marathon
You have started running again
and I can’t help but remember how you told me
the way you hate the heat that fills your lungs
the pressure in your knees
even the sound of your feet against the pavement.
Has she crawled back inside
of your pale protruding ribs?
I know how you dwindle
how your mass rises and falls
as you hear the scream of the scale summon you
back into your wretched ways.
You are a mathematician in your own right —
you could write theses
on the calculus of calories.
There is something disgusting in the way
we regard 130 as excessive.
Some days are not meant for eating,
you argue
as you substitute liquid for lunch
(and breakfast)
(and dinner)
You crave visible crevices
crisscrossing your shoulder blades and stomach.
You want only to see your collarbones
to feel the weight of the world directly on your skeleton.
You have started running again.
You are losing the race.
Megan Munson is a seventeen year old living in Washington and writing as much as possible.
