Depleted hands
Damaged fingers
I didn't win today
My soul craves to be thin again
A constant war is waged

Always cold
Never empty enough
Food not seen as fuel in my mind
In the recovery world a meal is a victory
but I see it as failure in mine

Never understanding
how they can not see
Smiles don't mean that I'm healed
Breakdown has been achieved
My heart will remain sealed

Maybe tomorrow
I will try
To force myself to nourish
This body of mine and soul that I
So deeply want to cherish

Maybe tomorrow
I will live
Whatever that looks like
With my broken heart and bruised ribs
I will not abandon this fight