I’ve been trying to keep my hands busy to stop from feeling so needy lately. But my hands never pick the right things. I swear I was skinny once, but I have always thought I was fat. I think I’ve just been bloated from my grief, all of these years.
Can’t feel anything They drug me so I don’t cut So I don’t **** myself Won’t let me drink Can’t get high Can’t even **** myself So instead I ate... and ate... Til my stomach hurt Forcing it down Feel the carbs increase my heart rate Tiny bursts of mild pleasure Turning into gluttonous lethargy I guess I felt something
Saline streams ran down my cheeks and found it's way to my lips Glitter and shine like sequins as they drip down the terrain, Seeping into the cracks in a desperate attempt to drink the life I've given up
I'm older now but nothing has changed My wine still tastes like bitter childhood and my cigarettes smelled like my father (Or maybe my father smelt like cigarettes, I couldn't tell) A bag of anger packaged in Mcdonald's chicken nuggets sat on my work desk like a trophy to behold
I was only 6 when the first crack in my heart ran through My mother told me that maybe copious amounts of cheesy fries and roasted chicken would somehow motivate my body to fill it up I needed reassurance that would coat it in resin Give it another layer of protection But she gave me a bag of hard candy so I could sculpt around it
My body shook and my voice cracked as my father left my the family for the 3rd time and I knew my trust was gone forever But that's fine because 7-Eleven is down the streets And they have a promo for chocolate-vanilla ice cream All I needed was a cone to catch the tears as I swallowed it down like melted sugar syrup
I tell myself that adding chocolate chips into my depression would not make it taste sweeter But when I took a bite out of that cookie, I could barely tell I've been crying And a few mugs of mocha drowned the thought deep into my mind
I'm older now But my taste buds still have me ******* on a chain And it feels like the only way to escape Is to jump down the abyss
Out of all my crutches, stress eating is the "healthiest" but it destroys me eight times faster in the long run because then I'll worry about gaining weight. Ahhh, tough.
"Sweetheart, You lose so much weight" "I'm fine mom, I've already ate" Sedative words that can't extricate Food, Is what I begun to hate.
Thin, Thin, Very Thin Left with bones and waxen skin. I'm famished but anxious of the kilos Furtively eating with my eyes, Day by day this is how it goes.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, can't you see? What you show is demising me. Every calorie is a conflagration Stepping into the scale a redundant vexation.
Stand upon my reflection again A fat *** is what I see, vociferating of my brain makes me regurgitate in so much pain. Drops of anesthetic mainlining my soul numbers in the scale are reigning without control.
Flesh into ebbing, turning acrimony into cuts throwing meals, when everyone shuts All is left is my aweary bones Still it whispers "Not thin enough"