My letter to Bulimia

Can you make me pretty, can you make me good,
with just a little more water and a little less food?

I promise I’ll practice to be as strong as you
you’re my new religion, I believe in your truth.

You’re the voice in my head, you’re my new best friend.
You save me from regret no one else even understands.

So I’m running for miles, I do my workout each night,
hungry in bed, hungry when I rise.

I’ll stay hungry for weeks, if I eat I shall write
I shall write it all down on my skin with a knife.

All the cravings, the self-hate, controlling gets harder.
My new best friend’s with me, says „girl, you are smarter.“

Just eat it, repeat it, swallow nothing but pride,
all the pretty girls to it to look fine in the spotlight.

And I listen to you because there’s no one else left.
Still I’m secretly proud you are my bff.

I punch myself in the stomach and I finger my throat.
I am forcing myself to drink salt-watered overloads.

There are bruises on my skin and my hair is a mess
and I don’t even fit in my size zero dress yet?

Darker hair on my body, there were cracks in my voice;
cracks in my voice, when I slowly realized that I do have a choice.

I was born in a world full of chances and love,
it was me who decided I’m no more good enough.

I’m sorry mommy and I’m sorry god
for wasting the body you created with love.

In a world of perfection it’s so easy to lose
myself in self – deception; and it’s harder to chose.

But I did make a choice and it sure takes its time
to safe more than my voice but I will be worth the fight.

And I will always be hungry for life and for food.
I’ll take care of my weight an my body for me, not for you.

You’re no longer my best friend
And I’m already a star,
so stay the fuck out of my life

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