I listen to the sound of my stomach,
and I think it's a good sign.
I say I'm not hungry,
everyone thinks I'm fine.
If only they could see through my heart,
I'm helpless, hopeless,
I need a new start.
My body is ugly,
it's disgusting and vile,
but I'm so weak,
I haven't eaten in a while.
When was the last time I ate?
Doesn't matter how long,
it's too late.
My mind is obsessed,
I'm ten times too fat,
if I told anyone, they would think I'm
an attention seeking brat.
They'd curse me, and shun me,
and tell me to grow up,
I would be laughed at and blamed,
the school's hilarious pinup.
They would tease, and shout,
not caring if I'm too lost in doubt,
my weight is a key
to unlock this forbidden door
of uncertainty.
Not eating is good,
that's what I believe,
I'm not sure why but
perfect weight is what I must achieve.
