I want to be
Diaphanous. So thin
You don’t know I’m here.
Wraithlike, drawn like the
Wire, sounding only when
Plucked, brushed,
No voice of my own.
Wispy, vaporous.
Watery.
This business of
Food in the mouth
Comes to no good.
Disgusting (I tell myself)
But there I go again.
Walk a little more.
Lift a little more.
Did you eat that?
Why? Do something
About it. Get rid of it.
You don’t want that
In you.
But you will do it
Again. And again
You will feel
The shame of consumption,
Existence. The physical needs
That keep you.
From being
Insubstantial.
The constant failure
To not be
As I am supposed to be.
As I am told to be
Thin.
Adam Byrn Tritt 