There's this voice,
in my head.

She screams at me.
I understand.

She says:

You're fat.

She says:

You're Ugly.

And I Am.

Overweight.

And it's not just a disorder.

Or a problem.

But a Number

That is a statistic
saying:

Obese

Overweight

The Tolerance,
to the treadmill,
That I Regret,
everyday.

And I can't do it anymore.

So there.

Goodbye food.

And anything else.

That tortures me daily.

Like the voice.

Her Name.

Is
Skinny.