My Not-Addiction

It’s not an addiction,

Really it’s not,

But that mirror,

It’s a source of affliction.

 

Not long ago,

I could look in that mirror,

And think nothing was wrong,

But now only my flaws show.

 

The pressure to be perfect,

It tears away at my body.

At first it looked like nothing

But it had it’s side effects.

 

I wanted to be one of them,

One of those girls everyone envied.

But the price to pay was my body,

Not a penny or a gem.

 

It was never enough,

No matter what I did.

The skipping meals,

Only turned my image rough.

 

But will it ever be worth it?

I stare and ask myself,

My image in the mirror,

Still begging just to quit.

 

It became a nightly thing,

Standing on that scale.

And I was pleased to see,

That the numbers kept dropping.

 

My hair began to thin,

My bones began to show.

Everything was different,

And the desire was starting to win.

 

The pain I was putting myself through,

The constant suffering.

Everything was just a blur,

But nobody ever knew.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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