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.