The mirror lies (Not skinny enough) as I stared at my reflection. How could I change this? Cut down on meals? The mirror lies to me, telling me (Cut another out). I picked up my fork and knife and reached for the solitary meal. Just one bite, one can't hurt me right? (It can, it will) I put it back. Maybe tomorrow? I skipped meals and the mirror says
(Almost perfect) I lay down, tired and unable to move. I die slowly everyday.
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Lifeline Rants 2020-2024
Horrordark poetry and writings based in fiction. Written from the perspective of an outsider looking in with context. This isn't directed at anyone. It just helps me to write in perspectives of people.
