Body Hate
A stranger lives beneath my skin,
A twisted thing, a grinning sin.
It pulls and prods, it makes me sick,
Another bite, another trick.
The porcelain mocks my face,
A painted lie, a shameful space.
I heave and choke, a bitter tide,
Trying to wash the hate inside.
Each inch I pinch, each bone I crave,
A hollow shell inside this grave.
Duct tape binds, a desperate plea,
To sculpt a ghost that isn't me.
This body aches, this body lies,
Reflecting back distorted eyes.
I hate the flesh, the curve, the bend,
A war I wage that has no end.
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