There’s a crack in the mirror, That if I stand in just the right spot
At just the right angle
My stomach disappears,
And I almost look like
A person who I might like.
And so I get up every morning,
And I suck in my cheeks,
I raise my head enough to barely see my double chin,
I turn sideways and exhale,
And for a moment I feel almost okay.
For a moment I don’t feel like I want to crawl out of my skin,
I don’t have to cover myself in blankets and pillows so that I can’t feel my stomach,
I can’t taste the bile creeping up my throat,
Begging to be released.
For a moment I’m almost good enough.
Then the moment’s gone.