With the violent jerking, And battering of my heart, And my self-image, I have deteriorated. I don't want to look at myself for a second longer than it takes To put on my face in the morning, Because if I do, I will begin to poke and **** at my own flesh, Feeling as if I am going to upchuck every calorie I have consumed In the 15 years, and 120 days of my life. If I look at myself long enough, I am repulsed, And my day from that point on will be violently, Disruptively disordered. Everything I am forced to consume, Because of the need to hide my disastrous disorder, Will become disgusting, half-digested *****. And rottingly, I will feel pure, And vile, All at the same time.