You look in the mirror
Out looks a monster, tearing at your self image
Unless you get rid of those thighs, that stomach.

Look at yourself again
Out looks imperfection, still stealing your thunder
Over and over you try to find a solution
Kill your hunger, small portions only if you're dizzy; drink water.

Finally! Your stomach is beyond non existent and
Inside you're thrilled. Now if only your thighs would downsize...
Next up, PURGE PURGE PURGE!
Everything hurts, but hey! You're so skinny!

Actually, you look like a Barbie Doll; "What's wrong with you?"
Seriously, your body looks so ugly, I mean, disgusting much?

Your head spins, wondering what's wrong with your body.
Out looks a monster, disfigured, disillusioned to life
Underneath lies confusion, resentment, dread.

Are you happy now?
Ruining yourself for perfection impossible to find
Everyone already knew nothing was wrong---except you.