The heat escapes your "perfect" body.
The bruises on your tailbone green.
The hunger pains bring satisfaction.
A skeleton too early for Halloween.
The purging yellows your once-white teeth.
The acid burns your throat.
The habit makes your cheeks swell,
"And I'm still fat",you quietly croak.
The life you live is not one at all.
The urge began as a seed.
The gleam of metal against crimson red,
Arms and thighs begin to bleed.
The struggles attack everyone,
The unattainable goal to fit in.
The fight inside us starts to fade,
And sometimes our demons win.
This poem is about: