Progress Report

Lyrics

When you stand up, your vision no longer fuzzes or frays like television static. You are getting stronger. Notice your thickening blonde and mute stomach. You, with your glittering eyes, shining like newly polished shoes. I am so proud of you. Your corneas are not the dim low-battery lanterns they once were. When you sit down, your tailbone does not bruise watercolors. Illness is not a painting. Self-destructive tendencies were never meant to be exhibits in an art gallery. When you feel like recovery is more like betraying a good friend, Remember it is all worth it. The calcium tablets. The whole milk. The meal plan. Your full belly cushioning the sharp edges of bone. The ice cream you kept from yourself for so long, you forgot vanilla could taste like anything other than giving up. The Flintstone's gummy vitamins you took faithfully like a morning prayer. The scale you watched your father saw in half. That poor body of yours you wished he was sawing instead. The therapists that picked you apart with their questions- what were you actually trying to lose? Surely not your skin, the only battered lover that never learns, refusing to leave even in the hurt. Who told you that you were not good enough? It was you, wasn't it? But look at you now, ripe with permission to love yourself. You are no longer a tourist, but the humble homeowner of your body. There is particular triumph in vital victories