| I'd do anything. I'm just not sure I can motivate myself. Every time I walk into the lunch room I'm like, "Michelle do not go sit down. You knew this would happen. O great. You sat." Then I eat, and then I feel disqusting. I hate myself. I've started putting things into perspective, and I get so mad at people that I hardly have any friends because I have pushed their love away. I don't want them anymore, though. Them, their skinny legs and firm tummys.. they make me sick.my poem..FAT
it echoes in her head.
reverberating there,
screaming, torturing, and
threatening her young life.
that smooth, cold, hard mirror;
best friend, yet biggest fear.
her face distorted from
that single syllable,
falling, drifting, floating
around her troubled mind.
her translucent skin shines.
tears burn as she whispers
the minute word she fears. |