hollow (potential trigger warning)

When I wake up in the mornings
I try not to look in the mirror
on my way to the bathroom
because I don't want to love
the body I have when it's hungry.
I attempt to ignore my reflection
on my way to bed
after going a day without food
     (I didn't feel like eating,
     I promise)
          (I'm not sick.)
I spend every day
trying not to fall in love
with an empty stomach,
and how slim I look
after ignoring my body.
I spend my life
trying not to fall in love
with my body the morning after
throwing up
because I hadn't eaten all day,
and how shapely and svelte
I looked when I brushed my teeth.
I try not to see how much nicer
my reflection was that morning
than what I see as I write this.
     ("I'm not sick" I insist,
     but I feel the doubt in my core.)
I tell myself I'm content
with the vessel heaven granted me
but in my heart I know
I take my hurt feelings out on it instead,
because you can't starve a god.
(I'MNOTSICKI'MNOTSICK)
I want to be more than my bones
in the eyes of the world.
I tell myself every time I skip a meal
it's because I'm still full
from the meal before,
or that I'm too nauseous to eat,
or that I ate enough calories
the day before
to sustain myself a week.
I don't want to fall in love
with myself when I'm empty,
so please
     tell me
          I'm not sick.