Sat, 01/18/2014 - 15:50 -- cls448

Here it comes again.

There is the feeling.

Food, heavy in your stomach.


Your hands begin to shake and your palms begin to sweat.

You look around, searching desperately.

Where can you go?


Your mind plays tricks on your body.

Your guard comes down

You know you are ready.


The cold tile floor, porcelain, and faucet blur in your mind

They swirl around, mocking you

They let you know you have lost the battle again

You face the rim and breathe.

Coaxing yourself away from it you regain composure.

You start to walk away with your head held high.


You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror

You shudder and look away.

You hate what you see

 You decide to fix it.


You slide your bony finger down your throat

The release comes.

Your body convulses

It’s sufficiently horrifying.


You see your prize in the bowl

Your reward for destroying yourself

Satisfaction and disgust engulf you

You wipe your mouth and promise,

Never again.


You get up

Walk out

Its done

No one knows

One more battle lost, one more day defeated.


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