stuff my face
plug the pain
feelings does not need to feel
food addiction the start
the end, death will come slow
enough time to rectify
why rectify?
a flower in the field
wind blows away
no-one noticed or new it existed
point in stopping self abuse through stuffing face?
black life extended, torture at its best
the mind pared with bad memories and hopeless outlook
the best of dungeons to find rest in
cold dark damp wonderful fear creep in