Give me that sweet sugar-soaked surrender,
cinnamon-bun sadness and pumpkin-pie self-pity.
One bite, can't stop.
Feed me until the only room left is stuffed with empty guilt.
One bite, can't stop.

Feed me until I can't enjoy the taste,
and I only feel satisfied when I feel hungry.
Put a stop on that tap of running syrup.
Close the lid of the pristine white bakery box, and lock it with chains of metal.
(The kind you can't break, even on your weak days.)

Close your mouth to everything offered.
Feel the pride of staying hungry.
One pound, can't stop.
No thank you - I had a big breakfast.
One pound, can't stop.
No thanks - I ate too much at lunch.
Avoid comments, evade questions and concerns.

One pound

Only four hours and thirty-three minutes
until that sergeant called the scale or maybe it's just your brain
will let you eat for the second time today.

One bite

Stand naked in front of the mirror,
a scavenger hunt for new bones to see.

Can't stop

Swell with happiness as your body dissolves like the cubes of sugar you once let melt on your tongue.