My jeans are fitting looser these days.
I’m hungry yes, but I refrain.

I see my food six times a day.
Three times in a different way.

My peers don’t notice nor do they care.
I can’t help but think “Is anyone out there?”

My stomach rumbles, grumbles “More.”
I hush it up, I’ll win this war.

I must be thin,
This is the battle I will win.

I throw the punches,
But my arms get weak.

In this battle, I will lose.
I am the one being abused.

I've trapped myself in this pain.
I soon realize there's nothing to gain.

There is no one to blame but myself,
But now I know I must get help.