eMpTY; oN puRpOSe

eMpTY; oN puRpOSe

Food is a disease designed to make me ugly. 
So are mirrors. 
And thoughts. 
Shut the fuck up. 
Talking to me? Puke! 
It helps. 
To stick your finger down your throat. 
Peanut butter is better with whipped cream. 
Drink more water. 
Note: pick flavors that taste good, 
On the way back up. 
Why the fuck am I sharing this? 
That dress I like in the window, 
Is only one size, one purge, away. 
I am so tired. Empty; on purpose. 
I know I am killing myself. 
But it is so worth it. 
Shut the fuck up, 
Mirror.

 

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