My body feels like a stranger I despise.
The mirror is a war I never fucking win.
The meds steal my hunger, and I let them.
The scale becomes an obsession I cannot escape.
My mind keeps score of every flaw I see.
I reach for drugs to silence my body’s needs.
I mistake an empty stomach for control.
I watch myself disappear beneath my own skin.
I chase the emaciated reflection I call beautiful.
And still, I am never fucking thin enough.
My body screams for food, but I cannot listen.
Swallowing feels impossible; even hunger feels unbearable.
The meds erase my appetite, and I fade in silence.
I drag myself through each day, exhausted but smiling.
Because if they see me breaking, they’ll know the truth.