My tummy rumbles and rules my fire.
Cheeks burning - the medicine has the power.
Hungry but clenching my teeth, I say no to the calories that haunt me in my sleep.
It may seem silly.
It might seem funny.
The last thing I want, is to be another fat joke.
I'm nothing but desperation and hope.
I look in the mirror and see the roll on my thigh, and whisper to myself "why oh why?"
Body Dysmorphia:
It's leaves a weird touch on your soul.
You
can't
airbrush.
You can't make yourself better as a whole.
You can't smooth out the lines, or brighten your eyes.
There's nothing to compromise.
Who are we without the lies? We tell them everyday.
We lead the people we love astray.
Saying things like, "oh I already ate, today."
This isn't cute. This isn't me.
Why oh why does my body hate loving me?
