Back then
I fought my demons,
and ate my food
like a good girl,
for you.
Because you always looked worried,
asked me why I didn't eat,
you told me I was beautiful
and made me feel it too.

But then you stopped trying,
I don't know why,
but my guess is that
you don't have to worry
about her eating habits,
or stress yourself
or bend over backwards
to make sure she's healthy
because she is normal.

I stopped eating again,
for so long after that.
But I'm back on my own two feet
and I eat all my meals,
I choke it down and move on and
I'm slowly getting better.
But this time it's not thanks to you.

I'd been eating for you,
but I can't remember why.
Now it's different,
I eat for my mom,
she loves me.
I eat for my grandma,
she makes the best food.
I eat for my papaw,
he would hate to see me this way.
But most of all,
I eat for me;
I eat for my body;
I eat to live.