I wrote this when I was suffering from the early stages of an eating disorder, but am since in recovery. 

Scrambled egg whites and lettuce have never tasted better
Because it is the taste of the joy of getting thinner
Joy fades during panic attacks at the thought of dinner
All my friends are going out to eat and I can’t join them
But I get to see all my bones and joints though
Look down at them whilst laying in bed
Because I have rarely the energy to raise my head

My body is a landscape, all mountains and ridges
And it will stay that way, just hide from cupboards and fridges

I know the calories in almost every food
Yogurt and cucumber and melon and soup
But I don’t know what the sky looks like today
Maybe like my hair, its fading into grey

Who cares whats outside when my thighs have never been smaller
Its worth all the skipped meal, its worth all the torture
Im proud of my body, it has never been better
Just ignore the fact I hide it, loose trousers, baggy sweater

It’s hidden away like all treasures should be
But looking down again, I’m not sure this is the real me.

When does my obsession with food stop and I begin?
What is there to me, other than thin?
I have strived for this, worked till there is hardly a pound to shed
They say if I keep on going, I’ll just end up dead
They say it like its a bad thing, they don’t see through
My faked happiness, the miserable truth

I have wasted to nothing, my mind only comprehends food
I’m living a nightmare, and I can’t wait till its through

Published by Phoebe Paperchains