The Eating Disorder
There I lay, waste on my fingers from regret and temptation.
Emptied and fragile to the world
Constant thoughts permanent to my brain putting me down
Burning inside and pulling, fighting the feeling with liquid and television
Sorrowed from myself
The long run's outlook feeds positivity to my soul
Forcing me to be weak for desire
Cravings strong for something so senseless, it weakens me
Foul smells linger from something to be ashamed of
But I am not.
Loathing of oneself is destructive, however I remain strong for notion.