There's this voice,
in my head.
She screams at me.
I understand.
She says:
You're fat.
She says:
You're Ugly.
And I Am.
Overweight.
And it's not just a disorder.
Or a problem.
But a Number
That is a statistic
saying:
Obese
Overweight
The Tolerance,
to the treadmill,
That I Regret,
everyday.
And I can't do it anymore.
So there.
Goodbye food.
And anything else.
That tortures me daily.
Like the voice.
Her Name.
Is
Skinny.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
There's this voice,
in my head.
She screams at me.
I understand.
She says:
You're fat.
She says:
You're Ugly.
And I Am.
Overweight.
And it's not just a disorder.
Or a problem.
But a Number
That is a statistic
saying:
Obese
Overweight
The Tolerance,
to the treadmill,
That I Regret,
everyday.
And I can't do it anymore.
So there.
Goodbye food.
And anything else.
That tortures me daily.
Like the voice.
Her Name.
Is
Skinny.
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