For a very long while
i was usually quite exile
until tell i met my best friend Anabelle.
she told me her secrets
and i told her mine
and to my surprise,
on one cold winter night,
she said "aren't those pants a little tight?
my face still in shock, i said "they are only size 2, and fit me quite fine."
still, she argued, "loose some weight and you will be noticed,
by those who you want to love you... but don't only loose just a menace."
at first it was small,
barely noticeable at all,
then whole meals together,
sometimes days in a sprawl.
Only an apple, maybe some water.
Thinner and thinner.
Finally, at the start of Spring,
Annabelle looked at me
She said, "look how beautiful I knew you could be!"
I was laying in a casket
As my parents read their griefs,
Little did they know,
It was the story of how my best friend killed me.
