Self conscious

They don't understand

They don't see it

The stretch marks

The wrinkles on the legs

The bulging in my middle
Like a demon pushing it's way out
Threatening to rip myself apart

The chubbier cheeks

The thickness.

"Real men like women with curves. Only dogs like bones."

You don't understand
As a girl who used to be nothing but bones..this..this feels wrong.

"You look healthy."
Was that an insult? How dare you, I don't want to look "healthy"'

"I think you're perfect."
Well I think you're blind. You can't see all the marks staining my flesh
You can't hear the demons screaming in my head

"You're not fat, you're skinny."
Silly, silly girl. Don't tell me I look skinny when I remember seeing my ribcage without sucking in.
Don't lie to a girl who's lived on telling lies
Don't tell a girl who's gone days without eating at one time that she's healthy

You don't understand.
It's a mass of flesh, useless, unwanted meat sticking to my bones.
Fat.
Fat.
Fat.
Fat.
The pills aren't helping, they're taking to long to kick in.

Never compliment a girl on her body who once had an eating disorder.
She'll never believe you.

Perhaps she might, if she's fully recovered.

But I myself, my dear, am not.