My body is
Increasingly becoming sick
It's becoming disgusting
With all the harmful things
That I allow to
Pass through my lips.
I'm always tired
I do little exercise
I feel always out of breath
I almost never drink water
I am lousy with unhealthiness.
I hate food.
I hate what it does to me
I hate how it makes me feel.
But most of all
I hate that I am
So hopelessly addicted.
Even when I'm full
I seek snacks
To fill my emptiness.
To comfort my brokenness
To cease the pain.
My journey of the road to recovery
Will be long
And painful
And fraught with trying to make amends
For the horrible things I have done to my body.
To fix what is broken
To try and find something else
To fill the void.
To make the headaches
And the ****** feelings disappear.

I know what you are even before you speak
see what you are plainly no need to figure you out
pigs hijacking a mind is akin to bacon hijacking a plate
over-salted obsoletes in rank tasteless unfashionable hurrah
seeking relevance as the diners reject your laden unhealthiness
pigs eating pigs in traditional fare as others await you in hospitals
chips on shoulders chips in your gobs what else but potatoes-heads
our bacon and mash stewing because of brown in gravy go smashing
our cooked and ready meals says we are hijacking a mind and mixing  
the flour without color, soft, airy, weak, insipid, bland and malleable  
only meaningful and useful when diverse ingredients are migrated in
puffy doughnuts now hijacking mind in a psyche war in their oven
the red fire burning mixing brown, black and yellow coloring's
mud pies joining jammy-dodgers in imaginary sponge bake
what a comedy like when King Alfred burnt the ole cakes
but these are mere serfs, vagabonds, thugs and hooligans
the frustrated ******* with hot ovens and small cold *******
hail the republicans and hot war, figuring out a psyche lynching
them, the pathetic bacon with chips and puddings from Dorks-shire
Hey! come eat all ye gullibles, the pigs from Animal Farm are serving