The Ana Sisters

The Ana Sisters

A personal sorority 

Full of manicured hearts

Scooping or purging out those feelings

The Ana Sisters

 A bond of blood sweat and tears

The blood you rush out

The sweat you work out

And the tears you cry at that number

Not low enough. Never low enough.

The Ana Sisters

The worse commonality

With the best long term goals

The kind that keep you up at night

But cripple your daytime hours

The Ana Sisters

A group that wishes to be your sisters

To be part of something big

But to be a great lot of nothing

The Ana sisters twist

They twist the mirrors

They twist your stomach

And your reality and vision.

With perfectly slim hands

The Ana sisters scoop

They claw out the bad

And scoop out the flaws

All with perfectly polished nails

 The Ana sisters lie

They tell you how to feel

How not to feel

How to survive

With perfectly rouged lips.

The Ana sisters sing

They dance and read and clean

And run and lift and jump

They keep your mind busy

With perfectly warped minds

 The Ana Sisters worry

They make others worry about you

While you worry about numbers

With perfectly accurate timing

The Ana Sisters negotiate

Higher if this

Lower if that

But never ever that. This isn’t safe.

Unless you want to fail.

The Ana Sisters confuse.

I want this.

I shouldn’t have this.

Talk. Don’t talk. Don’t explain.

Lie.

Lie.

Shh. It’s alright.

The Ana Sisters became me.

That bittersweet sorority.