From collar bones to skinny wrists She tries to joke, impress with her wits Thigh gaps, stomach flat Through her eyes she see nothing but fat It becomes a game, how far will she go? It only depends on what her scale will show One goal met, a lower one set The pattern continues, she's not done yet She starts to get sick, cold, numb, and weak When she stands up you hear all her bones creek Never a fad, never for show She pushed herself to see how far it would go Don't know how to stop, it's now who you are Each day she purges, even thoughΒ Β she is starved Now I am sick, but I know I can't quit Why do I think all this pain is worth it?