Danielle Crowe

He read my weight in kilograms and you began to cry.
As I watched the sad tears well and spill I pathetically asked myself why?
Why do I continue to harm my health when I see it causes such pain?
What benefit would I achieve, what could I possibly gain?

I write this poem in a healthy weight, one year and four months past,
I knew I could never stay that thin, I knew it wouldn’t last.
The pain and hurt I saw that night in the hospital testing space,
I never again want to see the looks I saw in my parent’s face.

I remember my mother crying in the corner on the chair,
While my father wrapped his arms around me and continuously kissed my hair.
I am sorry for all the suffering and the tears I made you cry,
Still to this day and for the rest of my life, I will always wonder why.