Tell me again how I should eat,
Because the scale tells me how I hardly deserve to breathe.
I’m stronger than you,
I’m stronger than the food,
How else could I manage without a meal as long as I do?
Instead, I will let my wrists bleed,
And my stomach scream,
And my bones shake.
But that’s okay,
Because I’m still not at my goal weight.

Cold in July,
Well this is new.
But I still weigh more than 82.
I will cut some more,
And let my stomach continue to scream,
And my bones will still shake.
But the only problem is my weight.

Help yourself they say.
Help who I scream?
It mustn’t be me!
I’m stronger than ever.
Just wait ‘till I weigh 73.
I’m almost out of blood,
And my stomach is small as a pea,
And my bones are breaking.
But the problem isn’t me.

Blackouts are frequent,
I couldn’t tell you why.
Might get better once I weigh 65.
Dead girl walking they say.
60 pounds and dropping.
At least I pray.
Soon you’ll see,
You could never be stronger than me.
Sure, your blood is thick and good,
And I’ll bet your stomach is hardy and full,
And your bones must be strong and sturdy.
But you weigh 130.

Watch me cut my skin,
Watch me skip a meal,
And then tell what I see in the mirror isn’t real.
It’s the same line every time,
More like the same lie on the drop of a dime.
I bet you I don’t need all this blood,
I bet you my stomach could scream a little louder,
I bet you my bones could shake a little more.
Anything to leave this weight locked behind closed doors.


I’m the skinniest girl you know,
But I still need to lose.
63, 51, 42.
The numbers fly by,
But time will only tell,
When I’ll be done living in this obese hell.
When it’s about time for my blood to run dry,
And for my organs to fail,
And for my to bones turn to dust,
You’ll see,
You could never be stronger than me.

You could never be stronger than a dead girl walking.

You could never be stronger than a dead girl.