I stopped eating.
Anorexia is becoming
Of me as I push away
The heaps of food
In front of me
Holding onto my sides
Out of hunger.
I closed my lips to
The lies devised
To blind me of the
Truth I so clumsily
Sought and desired
Once upon a time.
I stopped eating.
Choosing instead to
Mindlessly draw
Scenarios of simpler
Days where the sun
Is warm and the
Nights quite inviting.
Sheepishly holding
Back on words I would
Sooner choke on than
Spat out to those
Who hand fed me all
Those times before.
I stopped eating.
Trying hard not to
Give in to the
Temptation of just
One little snack
Before bed to help me
Sleep more soundly.
Stopped absorbing the
Fuel that keeps society
Running on a tire
About to go flat as
It runs its course
Raw.
I stopped eating.
Because this
Anorexia of sorts
is becoming of me.