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Jun 2015 · 604
A Disorder
Jenna Pitts Jun 2015
If you could see past my eyes
Into my disquieted brain
You'd think I was obsessed
Or at least a little insane
You would shake your finger at my thoughts
As I chase ribcages while caging myself
Into a world of bones and rot
I can calculate calories into a formula for happiness
Like I measure my merit with a measuring tape
And I know that "looks aren't everything"
But it looks to me like they are
Because society suggests that you "be yourself"
While screaming the importance of beauty and wealth
And we all know that ugly doesn't make it
Into the movies
Just like fat doesn't make it into the magazines
If I could look into the mirror without seeing
Distortions
Then maybe I could convince myself to eat bigger
Portions
But as the story goes, as the song is sung
Another girl loses to the battle of one
I'm at war with myself, and it's making me sick
Sick in the head; sick in the heart
I sicken myself as I'm falling apart
I hate this hollow pursuit for a hollow life
And yet I secretly starve myself
In an attempt to get it right
You might be somewhat confused
As to why I undergo this kind of beating
Yes, hunger is painful
But so is eating

— The End —