Pain ignites,
Your shoulders and biceps set ablaze to to the beat,
To this resurrected tune from the plantations of long ago,
A specter that hangs over the shoulder  when heard.

Up,
Down,
Hold that ****,
And you start to think this Sally chick might just be a real cold *****.

Up,
Down,
Rinse and repeat the pain.

It's just 30 reps,
Why is it so infernally difficult?
Up,
Down,
Hold,
The pressure builds in your muscles and your brain,
Pratcher & the Gardeners heedless of your pain.

The last chorus,
Just a little bit more,
Is it just you or is the music slowing?

The women are weeping,
At the poor departure of poor ol' Luxe.

The song cuts,
You sigh in relief,
As your body crumples on its own accord,
Sick of your efforts and insanity.

Heavy darkness all around,
In my footsteps, on the ground,
My path is lined by threatening trees,
Pale moonlight on my knees.

Push my muscles,
Closer to home,
Faster and faster,
Into nights catacomb.

The hour strikes three,
Quiet cold air creeps,
This is when I escape;
While the world sleeps.

Yesterday I went
jogging , my feet stamped on ground
like an elephant

hey for the first time
I knew what an elephant
felt like..woo how strange!!

You should ave seen the
late sun it melted across
early evening sky

It made me want to
go home and drink a glass of
nice smooth fresh orange

has to be nice smooth
orange don't like orange with
those annoying bits

I loved the duck pond
It had a silver lining
Twinlking brightly

Oops no sorry it
was a park light shining bright
reflecting in pond

Anyway I had
to jog all around the park
My belly bounced bounced

It nearly knocked me
out , I panted so much I
thought I saw heaven!!!

The moon was pretty
and full it must have had a
nice big fat fry up

The grass was damp too
But all was okay as the
snow had disappeared

But where had the snow
gone , I know the answer..blame
the trees they drank it

Finally I got
back home and wrapped myself in
a cozy blanket

Then drank a bottle
of water as if I been
stranded in desert

Then i sat down next
to my Dean and we both watched
a film on Netflix :)

I am obsessed with my health. Not just simply my health, but my weight, and my eating habits, and my view on life and myself. I am so obsessed that it has now gotten to the point where it is all I think about, and it has become obvious to everyone around me.

I can tell you which lunch ladies at my school won't question your lunch choices, which teachers will let you sit in their classrooms during lunch because you don't want to be around anyone or food; I have memorized restaurant menus, and I can tell you the meals with the lowest amounts of calories. My photo gallery is full of screenshots of healthy, low calorie, low fat, no-sugar recipes that I intend to make when I choose. I follow 177 eating disorders blogs on Tumblr. One of them being my girlfriend, and I get notifications when all of them post anything new. I weigh myself everyday, I know what I am eating two days from now, I overexercise, and I can tell you how many calories are in the 6 200mg ibuprofen I take everyday before facing the world.

I have lost 20 lbs. That doesn't seem like something worth keeping to myself, but it is when you are a high school girl; it is when all girls think the same, and suddenly when they hear numbers, they want to be number 1; they want to be the lowest, to be the winner, to be the most miserable person.

I can tell you exactly what it feels like to be embarrassed of being in your own skin.

I love giving other people food because I want them to remember that food is good for them. I want them to feel as though being given food is a kind gesture, not a last resort.

Running exercises body
and heightens spirit
Walking exercises body
and lightens spirit

Walking in the rain can be misery
but can also be joy
Don't let the rain
or the world as it is now
dampens our spirit
That's the spirit

These fingers quickly till the dirt for words buried in my mind
I can write free verse or I could rhyme
I can make haiku
Though its not necessary
To portray my heart

Struggle, I have become; I'd like to find my voice.
Amongst many a great poet, I am the furthest ripple from the rock thrown in water.
The lowest branch on the red wood.

Don't believe in such tactics as motivation; a devilish dependency lies there.
No, it must be discipline that is fair.
To write strictly; to write deliberately; to write however I want in those ways.

"Yes, but did you see the way she looked?"
Motivation from the deepest nook;
Inspiration that sings rhymes.
Free verse couldn't emphasize.

Simply put, maybe there's a time and place.
For different styles, and different tastes.
Iambic signature, saving grace.
Freely spoken, unknown fate.

I like it when people ask what my secret is
How I managed to lose so much weight
How I turned my life around
How I became what I am today

So here's what I tell them:

Count your calories
Avoid starch
Eat more proteins
But don't eat too much

Exercise daily
Drink lots of water
Eat healthy food
You'll get thinner

Have a goal
Work towards it
Never slack off
You'll get fit

No matter how they discourage you
Don't believe it
Believe  in yourself
You can do it!

With a smile, I give them hope
The perfect weight loss plan to help them cope
But there's one burden I have to bear
That's the secret I can never share:


Follow through that plan is what I wished I had done
But I just end up puking in the toilet after every meal