Bulimic Thoughts
I rush to the bathroom
Don’t cry, don’t cry
the guilt is heavier than me
the fear so strong, I can’t see
what’s in front of me
Who is that?
"Please help," I whisper, "stop the pain"
I feel so lost, I am my shame
it hurts to breathe, to even live
My reflection is repulsive
What have I done? What can I do?
No one to stop me, it’s nothing new
the room is empty, the stalls are wide
the toilets beckon, at least I tried
No one knows, I’m dead inside
But I can’t resist, I need release
If I throw it up, will I be at peace?
or will this be me again tomorrow?
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