Whispers of the Soul

Eating Disorder

A Dance with Food

In the dim light of the kitchen, the music begins,
A waltz of emotions where the struggle spins.
I step to the rhythm of cravings and fears,
Each bite a soft whisper, each flavor a tear.

We glide across countertops, hesitant, shy,
Food becomes partner, yet I want to deny.
The dance of the fork leads me close to the edge,
But with each tempting move, I linger on a ledge.

Sometimes a tango, the steps fierce and bold,
A rush of indulgence, a warmth to behold.
But chaos erupts, and the music goes wild,
With guilt as my shadow, the joy is reviled.

In moments of hunger, I lead with a grin,
Yet the chorus of voices draws me back in.
"Just one more," they beckon, "It's only a taste,"
But the melody shifts, and the pleasure's replaced.

The cha-cha of restriction pulls me away,
A step back from flavor, from joy, from play.
I dance on the edge of control and despair,
With every small victory, a haunting nightmare.

I twirl through avoidance, the steps become stiff,
A ballet of anxiety, each meal feels like a rift.
I sidestep the table, the laughter and cheer,
In this dance with my demons, I hide from my peers.

Yet in the quiet moments, the rhythm may shift,
I find sparks of connection—a rare, precious gift.
A shared bite of laughter, a plate passed with grace,
In these fleeting encounters, I find my own place.

So I'll learn to embrace this chaotic ballet,
With all of its twists, and the feelings that sway.
For food is a partner, not enemy or foe,
In this dance of existence, I'll find my own flow.

With each careful step, I'll rewrite the song,
A choreography of healing where I truly belong.
The dance with my hunger, the waltz with my heart,
A celebration of life, where I make a new start.

So let's twirl through the kitchen, let's leap with delight,
In the dance with food, I'll reclaim my own light.
For amidst all the chaos, the tension, the strife,
There's beauty in movement, a rhythm of life.