I always seem to find humor in the sad parts.
They touch my arm and smile at me with pity
and say, you look so healthy.
I smile back and tell them
that I feel so much better.

The truth is,
it gets easier,
then it gets harder.
A rollercoaster of disorders and anger.
The melancholy haunts me.
Makes me think that I was fitter
when I was skinny
and dizzy
and tired and weak.

All I feel now
is like a freak,
with no friends
no passion
no love in my heart.
Just a girl with clothes that don't fit
and hips with stretch marks.