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  • If I had a rib removed
    Could I turn it into Eve?
    Then I could be Adam,

    (And perhaps I'd even be skinny)


    Not eating was like a sport for me,
    Since I could not run quickly
    Or lift my weight in lead
    Or throw a ball so it cut the air
    Or do anything that required coordination.

    But Skinny? I could do.

    I was a starving artist---
    Starving was my art.
    Where others laid paint on canvas
    Or sang like canaries
    Or danced upon a stage
    I withered away with grace.


    You wanted to know what went on in my head,
    So here it is:

    Everything hurt
    I was always freezing cold
    I could hear my heart in my head
    I thought I was having an aneurysm
    I slept with my hand on my chest
    Just to make certain that my aorta didn't burst
    And my pulse didn't sputter out
    I thought everyone was watching me
    I thought they could see through my clothes

    Still I would have ridden
    That dark horse into the night
    Under ground,
    If I'd been given a choice

    I wanted so much to be skinny.
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