Porcelain Enemy

the confession of a bulimic

Porcelain Enemy

My stomach clenches,
then my body shakes with convulsions.
I can feel it all coming up.

Tears burn my cheeks
as they pour down my face.
They blind me from the horror in front of me.

I cannot stop this;
cannot break the tie that holds me,
keeping me from speaking out and getting help.

I fall back on the floor in disgust,
staring at my porcelain enemy with contempt.
I flush away my secret, watching my soul follow.

You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now,
but my mistake will forever haunt me
on all those nights spent over a toilet bowl.