I hate that I am eating. I hate every bite, every swallow. I hate every taste, every wrapper. I hate the bile that raises in the back of my throat every time I try to consume food. I am so so very sick of it all. So sick of needing to be high to even want to eat. So sick of the feeling of being full And I hate my need to be rid of it. Of trying to force it to stay down But secretly wishing that my ***** will drown me. I hate myself when I do *****. But I hate myself so much more when I don’t. But they say I’m pretty But they say I’m better So why is it so hard When every swallow is burning me alive And every ***** makes me a liar. And every skipped meal makes me a coward.