The little black arrow slowly tips to the right,

Determining my fate, my amount of self-hate,

I want to be weightless, to be light


They tell me I am beautiful

but who can be that and be fat?

My idea of beauty resided in my struggle


I wanted to defy gravity,

I wanted my plight to end, but instead,  I chose to be light

But now I only live in agony


The opposite, you see, occurred; my disorder made me heavy

Heavy with sadness, depression, and madness

All I wanted was to be weightless, to be light


Slowly murdering myself,

I landed just inches away from a grave...


I am lucky.

I made it through with few scars

I fought hard.

Now, I need not be light, but have delight