Every Day. A Struggle.
A struggle not to add to my glutonous outside composition.
In the harrowing courtroom: my mirror.
The judge awaits. His decision already made.
The ruling: lose 10 pounds
Thinner..Thinner..Thinner...Thinner!
My bones; enveloped and covered in a jacket of overbearing, disgusting flesh.
Everyday in the mirror....
Everyday a glint of far fetched hope....
Everyday never good enough....
Voice scream and cry in my tormented mind:
'Stop the fat! Stop eating! You shoveling pig! You just keep eating and eating! '
Everyday I get pushed.
Farther and farther.
I can feel myself FALL.
Farther and farther I fall down that spiraling staircase.
Farther and farther I fall down MY spiraling staircase.
Each day.
It....CoNsUmEs....me.
God Help Me.... Oh Please God Help Me.......
The truly sad thing is..............................................................................................................................................................
I'm not even HALF way done................
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your true beauty shines through in the honesty of this poem. Poetry is about touching souls... and you touched mine here. rx.