My Best Friend
She tells me only have 5 bites,
or consume nothing at all,
one nibble after another,
my control levels start to fall.
She tells me I deserve it,
only the strong can be thin,
don’t give into the temptation of food,
only the willing will win.
She tells me to run,
bones were made to be shown,
skeletal should be my only desire,
covered in white hairs grown.
She is winning now,
numbers dropping on the scale,
looking in the mirror becomes torture,
but we are determined not to fail.
Copyright ©
Em Yard | Year Posted 2016
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