I look in the mirror,
I'm being held down by this curse.
while I should be looking better,
I look so much worse.
Every time I break,
twenty pounds are gained.
It doesnt matter if I purge,
my complexion is still unworthy of being framed.
The scale says I've lost,
the mirror says I've gained.
He says to me "at what cost?"
my answer is delayed.
I'm chained down by the numbers,
they have taken away my life.
Maybe I can lose a few pounds in blood,
I'll be back soon with a knife.
YOU ARE READING
Trying
De TodoI'm really cringey and emo-- this book will have my ideas for books, creative writing, poems, etc usually based iff of my experiences and emotions. TW For shit like; depression anxiety suicide ptsd schizophrenia abuse rape pictures of my face an...
