it's as though i pride myself in the reassuring bones that pertrude against the skin of my hip. it tells me: i have control. my protesting ribs who dare not be hidden among my flesh, oh how they bare themselves - perfection. the hollows of my cheeks tell me that i am whole - though my body is not. this obsession and compulsion will drive me further into my world of eliteness. for i shall starve my body in order to feed my ego.