I'm No Poet

but I did write a poem. I tried to just put the audio in there but Blogger was being a bloghole so another quickstyle slideshow with one picture because I don't have patience for that shiz.

Home alone again;

But it’s not mischief that’s my vice,

It’s the food in the kitchen

Which taunts me all night.

I go to sleep and dream

nightmares so nice.

But these nightmarish dreams

they follow me to life.

Frantically bingeing

On x-listed food.

I know when it’s gone

There’ll be damage to undo.

My belly overloaded.

The kitchen a wreck.

Drowning in guilt;

I hate what comes next.

Bent at the waist,

Fingers circling my throat,

Over the toilet.

Snot streaming from my nose.

This sick little secret

That nobody knows.

Reminding myself to be patient;

What went down will come up.

Just keep doing what I’m doing

So I can soon flush.

Flush down all the guilt.

Flush down the pain.

Flush down the emotions

I tried to eat away.

I flush and I flush

Until my energy’s depleted.

I hate that I’m weak;

And continually defeated.

Over and over this cycle recurs.

So sick.

So disgusting.

Yet disturbingly obscure.

Eight days a week

My mind flirts with this urge,

Every bite that I eat

My mind tells me to purge.

“This times the last time.”

I use to swear to myself,

Now I don’t even bother,

I’ve no hope for health.