Email Poem

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Poem

in the morning
i pick myself out of bed
trying to stand staight
and hold up my head
my mouth is dry 
and my tummy aches
the more i get down on my knees
the more my body breaks
run to brush the horrifing 
smell off of my teeth
as much i think im winning
my throat tells me im in defeat
my chest is breaking up out
of my own skin
my outside looks nice
but im dying within
its too early to engage
in my ungodly ritutal
i love the high of my process
that has now become habitual
no one sees cause
it all happens on the inside
but the smell that carrys and the loss i have
is somethimes hard to hide
i think of all that i dont gain
and that i do swallow
looking at the toll it takes on me
i ask will make it to tomorrow
in the mirror i can only see all 
that i portray
it is just a matter of time now when
i will soon start to decay
my eyes wont tell you
what really happens to my food
when i rush to the bathroom after every meal
i know they think its rude
in 5 years will i start to show
the damage in my throat
i stare at the toliet
and see the evdience a float
so how dose this life style begin 
to end
will it be when the doctor
tells me this damage he can not mend
why do i forfill this 
when i know this will make me die
as i lean over the toliet
i can only ask myself why?

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