Body Image


It was so easy at first.

Like a moth to the flame.

I was an innocent victum.

And you a harmless game.

Just skip one, 

it can't hurt?

After all, what's the worst?

Nobody can see the damage,

the damage you've done to your body.

I feel it eating me day after day.

It's almost comforting in a way.

The emptiness I feel is my only friend. 

Slowly pushing me to the end.

I'm on the brink of destruction.

I'm screaming.

I'm screaming.

But who is there to listen?

No one.

No one.

So here I sit.

Alone, yet comforted.

As I refuse sanity, 

And accept destruction.

Guide that inspired this poem: 




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