Time, after time, after time,
You do this to yourself.
Over, and over,
It all happens again,
Like a cycle you've been circling for years now,
And you can't escape its orbit.
"You're not skinny enought."
"Your things are too big."
"You're stomach's not flat."
Thoughts ricochet against your skull like bullets,
Until you break down into sobs,
Because your head feels like a ripped up rag.
You feel like your life is falling through hairline fractures
By battering it with irrational weapons.
Even if you were falling through the cracks,
You wouldn't be skinny enough to fit.
One day you're perfect,
The next day you eat one doughnut,
And you're 10 pounds bigger.
Your mirror doesn't lie to you.
Your eyes don't lie to you.
Your scale doesn't lie to you,
But your brain's the best liar you know.
Nothing's changed, yet it convinces you otherwise;
It twists your perception into something shameful,
Something that isn't you.
You cry and you sob and you pray,
Asking, "why, why can't I love myself,
Why can't I accept what I am,
Why can't I stop thinking about the one thing I ate yesterday,
That ruined everything?"
This is what it feels like
To feel lost, and to feel like you're falling deeper, deeper.
It feels like my soul is starving.