Mind Suicide
inmd
There’s a big plate of waffles—thousands of calories taunting me and muttering. Mom is staring at me, not taking her eyes off of me, ushering me to eat them. It’s like she knows I won’t eat them.
There’s no way they’re touching my mouth. Doesn’t she know that? How obvious I’ve already eaten it is.
Mom’s always been a bit dim. She’s been dim and fat. Mom’s not as pretty and adored as she used to be but I don’t think she cares. I don’t understand how she doesn’t care when she looks like that.
She talks about disorders a bunch. Her and dad have hushed conversations behind closed doors about bulimia and me. They don’t think I can hear them but I can. Sometimes they talk about Grace Cassidy and her ending.
Never about how she wasn’t strong.
Mum talks about her a lot. She’s scared I’m going to be like that. All cold and funny coloured and skinny—too skinny.
Grace is dead.
Grace got out.
I’ll consider myself lucky if I turn out like Grace.
There’s no way they’re touching my mouth. Doesn’t she know that? How obvious I’ve already eaten it is.
Mom’s always been a bit dim. She’s been dim and fat. Mom’s not as pretty and adored as she used to be but I don’t think she cares. I don’t understand how she doesn’t care when she looks like that.
She talks about disorders a bunch. Her and dad have hushed conversations behind closed doors about bulimia and me. They don’t think I can hear them but I can. Sometimes they talk about Grace Cassidy and her ending.
Never about how she wasn’t strong.
Mum talks about her a lot. She’s scared I’m going to be like that. All cold and funny coloured and skinny—too skinny.
Grace is dead.
Grace got out.
I’ll consider myself lucky if I turn out like Grace.