illness

I wrote this poem about struggling with an ED.

It started as a whisper, 

a promise of control,

counting worth in numbers,

measuring a soul.

Hunger learned to speak softly,

shame learned how to shout,

mirrors told half truths

of who was in, who's out.

But somewhere under the silence,

a truer voice remains:

You are not the illness.

You are more than the pain.