My insides are broken,
They bleed and they weep,
For I've been unkind,
To this soul that I keep.
I find that I'm ugly,
My insides are thick,
My outside, it jiggles,
So I make myself sick.
This addiction, it started,
On account of a name,
The boys called me "Thunder-thighs"
As a part of a game.
This name, it would scar me,
And darken my heart,
It convinced me of things,
That would rip me apart.
I thought that when empty,
This pain, it would cease,
Yet it only encouraged,
The growth of the beast.
This beast that I speak of,
It lives in my head,
It plays on my fears,
And it wishes me dead.
It screams in the night,
From it's den of deceit,
"You can be lovely,
Just purge what you eat!"
So I bow to my ruler,
At a porcelain thrown,
I flush out the ugly,
And I'm never alone.
Now with each phasing moon,
The pain grows in my chest,
My hair has become brittle,
And I can't seem to rest.
I search in the mirror,
For some noticeable change,
But it only shows failure,
Our mind is deranged.
This reflection I see,
Is fat and so vile,
So I run to my throne,
And puke up more bile.
I want to be pretty,
And I want to be thin,
So nothing will stop me,
This war I will win.
But my bones become weak,
And my skin becomes dry,
I can't seem to breathe easy,
And I can't seem to cry.
I cut into this flesh,
That repulses me so,
I cover with clothing,
So no one will know.
My head spins in the chaos,
As I fall to the floor,
The blackness engulfs me,
As I reach for the door.
I call out for help,
But no one is home,
No one can hear me,
I am alone.
