Week one. #1. Margo.

Her crepe skin crinkles as she cuts it,
Trying to fold herself into the figure she thinks she wants to be.
Light as paper and as thin as film she stands,
She crushes her stomach after every meal-

One day, she will be transparent.

She peels carbon sheet after sheet,
Confetti strip after strip away.

Her inky insides smeared on her blotted, manila skin.
Scribbling her goals, her hopes on her body in an effort to remember them,
She is bruised, scarred, life tearing her apart piece by piece.

Soon all that will be left,
Are the curls of parchment that once made the whole of her heart.

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