Perfection

Perfection.


She lodges her fingers down her throat.

Clasping onto the wall as she recklessly chokes.

She reinserts her fingers back in forcibly.

Deliriously trying to make her body thinner.

She swoons and slumps to the floor nauseously

As she attempts to regurgitate her dinner.

Her throat aches as she screeches out coarsely,

With her hand covering the image in the mirror.

Her head now rests on the on the rim of the toilet seat.

She wants to eat but she just has not got in her.

She desperately begins to scream out inaudibly.

Her mouth now tastes of something pulpy and bitter.

She examines the red color of the fluid cautiously.

Realizing that she has become too focused on her figure.

Her friend then knocks on the door thoughtfully.

She shouts out, "I'm okay I don't need a baby sitter."

Her friend continues to knock and waits outside awkwardly

Replying, "You promised me, you said that you are not a quitter"

The tap begins to run as she disguises her cough distortedly.

She knows her friend is right but she refuses to consider

Her opinion as attainable because she sees herself as morbidly

Overweight and that she must become thinner and fitter.


The media have forced her to become paranoid.

Surrounded by all of these perfectly sculptured people.

These portraits have become impossible to avoid

Which is why she can never see herself as an equal.


Kela Lewis-Morin