My whole life I have felt invisible,
although my size is larger than most.
I was never the pretty one in my family.
I would hear comments like "you sure have
a pretty face," and "she's fat, but she's nice."
Are all fat people mean, or something?

I tortured myself with eating disorders, binging
and purging, my heart racing and chest aching.
I starved and would wake in the night, so
hungry that I would go downstairs and eat
whatever I could get my hands on. I felt so
guilty.

I was crying out for help, leaving
the remnants of my purging underneath
the bed in cups, growing putrid and
eventually, I would throw them out.
Sometimes I woonder if I will ever be thin.
My biggest fear is dying but even worse,
being fat when I die.