Original Poetry by Britt Bustos: “If I Were a Scientist”

would’ve made foaming volcanoes instead of tri-fold

book blurbs at sixth-grade state-mandated science fairs.

I would propose hypotheses on how much

anxiety affects comorbidity with eating disorders,

the same way I feel when chewing thin split nails

could be the way I crave seaweed-stained fingers

in between my teeth.               holding back coughs

searching for some kind of

greater purpose behind all of these

lies we tell ourselves.              skin and bone

the difference between fat and free,

leaning on this warped understanding

of healthy habits         leaning on

education as understanding   

leaning gently into      crossfaded jeans

in the fitting room                   the inevitable tearing of

fabrics and strings             as this body attempts to

mold around a forsaken size; one which does

not consistently           consist in other thighs            

defining a number by size      as if there is a true thing

as fits all

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