The sight of food.
Type's digits in my head.
Roxi telling me I'd be better off dead.
For all the sugar I ate that day.
And the calories I could've burnt away.
She'd force me to work out until i'd phased
YOU ARE READING
words and lb's
PuisiMy struggle in accepting me and my body for what it is. Me attempting some basic artistic expression and giving a voice to my depression.
