Not me...

She stared in the mirror, her fragile body exposed.
What she saw and what was in that mirror was extremely juxtaposed.
Her bones sticking out like knives, her figure stick-like.
However she saw flab and heard voices telling her that she was fat.
There was a gap between her thighs and her stomach was flat.
But she could not see that.
Now she weighs almost 5 stone and cannot stand up straight.
Her bones are weak and have basically started to decompose.
The world around her tumbling like dominoes.
Everything slows as she is confronted with her worst enemy.
Every bone in her body aching because of the immensely low weight.
She can either eat what’s on her plate, or suffer her fate.
But to her it’s more that eating, it’s giving up everything she’s worked for.
Because she is no longer just that girl, she is ana and has been for a long time.  

Not my best, but I wanted to post so. This poem is not referring to me. But if you are going through anything like this, once again, i'm here.