Ode to my anor(Ex)ia

I have some scary words for you, Ana.
We need to talk.
I'd say it's not you, it's me,
But really it is you who is the problem.

I've kept count of all your wrongs against me,
Kind of like how you made me count the calories
in the food I ate- if I did eat, that is.

I used to be able to look in a mirror
and see a person.
Now I just see a body that needs to be tortured.

So I'm breaking up with you.
I've found someone better-
Someone I should have paid attention to
a long time ago:

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