When I was 8 I started watching CSI shows every single night! 

Because I NEEDED to know who officer Milton arrested this time.

At 10 mom got me a CSI kit equipped with hand cuffs, walkie talkies, and a DNA test

My favorite thing was running around the house looking for clues, the arresting my stuffed animals.

At 13 I traded in my magnifying glass for makeup,

slowly growing my collection of sparkly eyeshadow

and going from innocence vanilla lipgloss to blood red lipstick.

When getting dressed in the morning I tried to look like the girls on my instagram feed 

But always got mad because my body never matched their hourglass figure.

by 15 I hated school.

everyones flat stomachs peaking from their crop tops

never getting dresscoaded for stretch marks.

I didnt waste time getting rid of in between snacks

and going to smaller portions, pretty soon meals started droping like pounds.

My cottage cheese chalk line is never thin enough for my taste

and I can't see past my thigh gap bullet holes.

every night instead of sleeping

I bury my head into my pillow so it muffles my cries,

I let my tears leave finger prints across my pillow with ink blot macara

my concealer caution taps,

my bed a crime scene.

Anorexia has made my body a jail cell 

my skin clings to my ribs 

fingers laced through them like prison bars,

the space between them filled of empty promises and mistakes.

At 16 i'm not longer hiding my food in trash cans like evidence.

wishing I could have stopped this crime scene before it happened

i'm just lucky this time no one left in a body bag.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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