Ice (Anorexia)

I Snicker to myself.
You are gorging down hundreds of calories.
I smile, seemingly blank-like, as I secretly count my ribs underneath my child-like sweatshirt.
You're still shoving that disgusting death on bread into your face.
A shiver passes throughout my body.
I dont even flinch.
Im used to the ice-like existence that my being has so silently crept into.
I cant remember the last time I was warm.
I dont mind.
I cut my sandwich into fourths, and then I cut the fourths into fourths.
Only to give my raging mind a sense of security.
and I eat. One sixteenth of my sandwhich.
And Im full.
Proudly, I walk up to the trash can, and throw away fifteen-sixteenths of my sandwich. Its such a long, tiring walk.
But I smile.
I sit back down as you go up for seconds.
I feel my body tremble with the sudden urge to vomit.
So, I satisfy its cravings.
When I return, you have finished your meal.
I tremble.
Im cold.