Mom looks
from psychology journals to me
asking leading questions.
I try to answer
right, never admit to
hunger,
repeat my catchphrase,
I just ate,
I just ate,
I just ate.
You don’t deserve to eat.
She cannot learn
my hunger
is my source of power.
Control your appetite, bitch.
Despite this,
Mom announces
I’m anorexic.
Anorexic? You wish!
But I am obsessed with food.
I can’t be anorexic.
Mom thinks she’s solved everything.
All of the problems
are mine.