“They know.”
The voices grow.
“They’re judging you.”
The voices brew
A concoction of words
No one else heard.
“Don’t eat.”
They beat
It into my mind.
I don’t know why
I have the insults memorized.
They’re saying I’m to blame.
That what became
Of me is my doing.
Now I’m losing it.
They won’t shut up.
They only abrupt
Louder and louder.
A founder
Of my own demons.
“They know.”
The voices grow.
I already believe them.
They write my poems.
I can’t eat.
I won’t be beat.
I’ll throw it up.
What I’ll develop
Is happiness
With my no plus
But a loss in pounds.
I won’t go down,
Without a fight.
So the voices will tell me,
All I can be.
Can you hear them screaming?