Why would I eat if the lies inside me fill me up? 'Til there's nothing but half-truths trapped inside. I plead, scream, beg for someone to hear my cry but it's locked deep within me.
The pain I feel when I look in the mirror; why? Why do I hate myself?
Hate my hair,
my hips,
my thighs,
my stomach,
my smile.
I won't look anymore.
I can't bear to see who's staring back.
Shatter the mirror!
Distort the already broken image.
How much more damage could I do to myself before I'm through?
The scale wails when I approach; the fourth time in a day. When the numbers fall, I let out a sigh of relief, but when they rise…
What can I do?
What would you do if you couldn't be you?
Everyone's words are pointless. If its not the voice inside my head it doesn't matter. Nothing can satisfy my need to feel empty—to feel proud of the monster I’d become.