I walk round
And round
And round
Hoping to hit my ten
Thousand steps.
How many calories does that
burn?

I end up eating
And eating
And eating
All 3 meals they serve
Me. Do I deserve
This?
How many calories do they
Have?

I lay and think
And think
And think
Why am I still
Alive?
Why did I not ****
Myself
Right
This
Time?

Things strewn around the house
Shirts on sheets and shoes unsymmetrically
placed on the dog-earred floor mat
That spells “welcome” but
Thick layers of Dust and dirt
Reduced it to a “wel”

Splashes of paint on a plain,
Blank canvas followed by red
Angry slashes. 1...2...3... uncountable.
Black patches of spilled ink
Followed by smeared blotches
The paper is not clean
Anymore.

Butterflies in ribcages let loose,
Broken bones and
Insects crawling under my skin.
Chipped nails and dried blood,
Skin flakes off
Me.?

The number on the scale
Becomes very real.
When food becomes kilojoules
And
Cravings become nil.

The number on the scale
Shouldn't be like a rusty nail.
Causing a wound
that never seems to heal,
that spreads till you're ill.

The number on the scale
is now fear.
For somehow worth is
Equals to
The number on the scale.

The number on the scale
Haunts till
The number on the scale
Decreases to
The (smaller) Number on the scale.

The usual blaring of
the alarm clock did
nothing,
to snap me out of my
reverie.

Still lost in last night's
nightmares,
I stumbled out of bed in
a half-drunk
stupor.

Then came the loud
CRASH!
It felt as though all the cells of my
being have exploded from
the impact of
the fall.

Time
seem to have stopped for a
minute or two.
The entire universe seemed
to have simply stop and turned to
stare at the mess.

The loud "bang" was
what snapped me out of my
Dream-like state.
I dare say,
I am awake now.

am I a fool? -

I wait at the door for someone to come
back, even though I live alone.

I give and give till I have no
more, and try to dig internally for more

I smile and laugh and say "it's ok" when
every single cell of my being is yelling stop.

am I a fool,
for having hope that there's love and kindness in this world?

And we return back to square one:
where windows are grilled and
hierarchy is based on what you wear.
where movements are restricted but
thoughts run wild without restrains.
A square is not a circle.
But yet,
Acts like one.

Things come in full circle. 

Life is humorously ironic.