Reach the goal
Cold hands hold me
Bony hands hold me
Freezing from your hugs
Stomach hurts - just for fun
Eyes are dull
Brain is foggy
Numbers keep falling

the magnified, mascara applied
                                                    eyes of my skull
burn holes in my thighs
                                       mulling over the size of this hull

i chunder my lunch and wonder of
                                                          everyone else
and if they're also laser beaming love
                                                               i­nto themselves

or if they're boundlessly born with it
                                                              unstained smiles, strained bites
maybe they're just born with it  
                                                   no pained bile or insatiable appetites  

either way, i hardly
                              can infer
if my stomach is
                          half empty
                                          or half full

There was a garden full of butterflies
They we're buzzing around
From flower to flower
It seemed everything was fine

But one butterfly didn't had a nice parental house
The parents often didn't say nice things to it
"You are Not good enough"
But also didn't do other nice stuff

In the school the Others laught about it
And started calling it names
The teachers only looked away
Also when it Changed her colors to Grey

The butterfly tried to be perfect
And wanted at least controll one thing
It wanted to controll it's body
So it lost a bit to much weight

While the others ate and ate
It sat in front of it's full plate
And in her head it praid
"Sorry for not beeing perfect"

The body started to shiver
'Cause it felt cold
Even when the sun was shining
That put it a nother crises

The butterfly's body started to change
It started to get problems with it's skin
But also with it wings
In it body everything started to sting

The day came where it was having a nap
A storm came up
And took the butterfly with it
And it was never seen again

Resistance,
It is all I know.
Forks and spoons
Are all for show.

My taste buds,
Numbing.
My senses,
Succumbing.

To bitter truth
Of my body,
Crumbling.

My stomach,
Rumbling.

This is torture and divine,
All at the same time.

For I am blind,
And my body is weak.
Crawling with little energy,
For no meal shall I eat.

I will wait and see,
Who finds me,
In front of my reflection.

For sustenance,
I welcome rejection.
My body,
Now filled with injection.

For you mention,
That I
Am a section
Of what I used to be.

Leaving me
To feel like rotten meat.
But you,
Scolded my body.

Isn't this what you wanted to see?