The little black arrow slowly tips to the right,
Determining my fate, my amount of self-hate,
I want to be weightless, to be light
They tell me I am beautiful
but who can be that and be fat?
My idea of beauty resided in my struggle
I wanted to defy gravity,
I wanted my plight to end, but instead, I chose to be light
But now I only live in agony
The opposite, you see, occurred; my disorder made me heavy
Heavy with sadness, depression, and madness
All I wanted was to be weightless, to be light
Slowly murdering myself,
I landed just inches away from a grave...
I am lucky.
I made it through with few scars
I fought hard.
Now, I need not be light, but have delight