Fatal Cry of Distress
By LadyLeBlanc
You're telling me it's hurting, you're telling me to stop. But there's so much pressure inside my being, I'll purge until I drop. Perfection is only something that one Man could achieve. And yet I'm trying so very hard. It'll be the death of me. Consumed with life consuming me, my life is tinged in red. I feel an evilness inside which I'll cleanse until I'm dead. Subtly I'll waste away, from inside to the out. Take my time, secretly I'll take in, then do without. Bingeing, purging faithfully perfection on the way. True, it won't help physically, but my distress it will allay.This poem is about a very dangerous addiction, known as an eating disorder. If you couldn't tell. ;} I originally intended it to be in prose, but this is just the way it decided to go. Written December 18th, 2001 © on Dec 18 2001 08:31 AM PST, Kaleigh Naylor 10 • 0 • 1
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"You're telling me it's hurting,..."