food is my every thought.

you laugh and I suppose it’s because

you think it’s funny. in a,

“everyone likes pizza and donuts.” kind of way.

like everything else i’ve been forcefed my whole life; 

“women don’t cuss.”

“don’t let a man think you’re smart.”

“no man will love you if you weigh that much.”

“don’t talk about your mental/eating disorder.”

i’m not supposed to talk about it. 

well, here we are and food is all I think about.

it’s not all that funny in the end. in a,

how many calories is in that?

if i eat this now than i can’t eat that later.

i’m so hungry, drink it off.

i’m starving, sleep away the pain.

i can’t eat that. 

i can’t eat that. 

i can’t eat that. 

i can’t eat today. kind of way. 

when i shower, 

my imperfections occupy my mind.

i’ll only have half my normal breakfast. 

getting ready for the day.

clothes are too tight.

 i want to scream. 

i want to die. 

only an apple for lunch. 

can’t wear this. 

something else.

something else.

in public you see a three hundred pound ogre. 

my clothes shrink two more sizes and now it’s hard to breath. 

i’ve already eaten too much.

failure, no slef-control. you’ll never be successful. 


in a weak state of hunger i eat dinner.

i hate you.

see how uncomfortable and antsy you are? 

no eating for two full days. 

i am always thinking about food.

i have an eating disorder.

i haven’t won yet but i try. 


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