The Perfect Woman Dies~ Poem by Maya Robena

She watches him,
Over the shoulders,
Of her yammering friends,
Not one word of theirs,
Registers in her thought,
Yet all of his,
Burn themselves,
And imprint forever,

He talks about fat,
(don't look like that) ,
He talks about thin,
How much it's in,
She thinks if only;
I was thin,
If I was in,
She thinks about this,
While she goes home,
While she sits,
At her family's dinning table,

She then announces,
I am not eating,
But her parents force,
The food down her throat,
So she runs to the toilet,
And puts her fingers,
Down her throat,
And push deeper,
It has to come,
Push deeper,
Until you can't breathe,
Push deeper,
Until tears stream,
From your bloodshot eyes,
And deeper still,
Make your stomach,
Convulse until,
It spews it all,
Into the toilet.

Look at it now,
The blood in the bowl,
Notice now,
The smell in the air,
And the acid on your fingers,
The blood on your lips,
The tears on your cheeks,
Wash it off,
Flush it down,
And repeat next meal,
And repeat again,
Don't stop now,
Repeat again,
Now stop-
Look once more,
Into that mirror,
So hated once,
Now hated again,
You still think you're fat,
But now he thinks you're too thin,
But you can not stop now,
Life's automatic,

You eat,
You vomit,
You eat,
You vomit,
You waste away,
Your eyes sink in,
Your teeth rot,
From your own acid,
Your stomach can no longer,
Keep down it's food,
Your skin-it hides;
No bones from view,
Not ribs, not hips,
Not collarbones or spine,

You wipe a tear,
From a sunken cheek,
As you realize,
The 'perfect woman',
-is dieing.