by Lavinia Hutt
Itās funny, how, just two weeks ago, I didnāt even fit in those pants. Now they sit loose and comfy, nothing to complain, yet my body looks the same. The same marks,
too many flaws,
so many scars.
Reminding me, Iām not done, still gotta run.
Just a little bit more every time and itās so easy at the start:
A little bit less here, a meal cut short there, no more sweets, no more fats.
āThis bread has 120 calories, I can eat one half before my run, I donāt need vitamins, I get those from the sun.ā
My brother notices when I come to visit: āYou look so skinny, so thinā.
No, I think,
As I hold back tears, Itās not enough. āNo, itās okay, Iām not really hungry, Yes, I ate at home, Iām so full, believe me,
IāM FINE!ā
But Iām not.
Just one more day, I start to complain,
and try to explain, why itās so important to me to lose weight. How Iām fat and die if I donāt.
But the only one that listens is the girl in the mirror and she never argues.
She looks so different from what I remember. Have these eyes always been so sad? Did she always look so tired?
I just need to sleep, itās gonna be fine. Iām fine. Iām not sick! But I am.
āJust sleep it off!ā Thatās what my mother used to say, So thatās what I do.
And I sleep and sleep, But itās never enough And the work I gotta do piles up And I canāt.
But I have to, so I keep going, The minimum each time
But at least Iāll lose the weight, right?
Ā© Lavinia Hutt 2024-01-21