Puke!

She always overdid it. She was always too much. Ten pounds of sugar in five pound sack as her mother would have said. So she ate her heart. Ate her feelings. Ate it until it all started to fall apart. Her pants were too small, her shirts too tight. Her shoes still fit though, that doesn't sound right. Her momma hmmed and hawed, boys at her bigger bountiful breasts pawed. But then came bigger badder things. Disease, blood sugar, hypertension, it all came crumbling down. Eating wasn't working. It wouldn't fix her problems. So she ate, and ate, and ate some more. Then she closed and locked the stall door. Then she put her fingers down her throat, and she pushed down until it hurt. Up and out came all the feelings she had eaten. Shame and guilt though had them beaten. There she stayed until her heart no longer hurt, and stomach no longer bowed. Throat on fire, she flushed and fled, she would mull over it all much later in bed. For now she would switch her heart and her head. Ignore those feelings and think instead.