They don't look at it as a problem,

Or admit that it needs a solution

When I lay my secrets before them

Not the act of purging, or starving

But binge after binge after a binge

I am a bottomless pit

A cavernous monster

Mountainous piles of gourmet food

Apples stuffed with crisps

It isn't what I eat that is the problem

Just the amount, the quantity

That leads to that sickening heaviness

Within the cave of my gut

And though I do not grow excessively

(Luckily I am prone to exercise cravings

Now and again, to save me from myself)

I still feel the disgust for myself,

And see the jelly-like folds

Of blubbered skin rolling together

Like hills stretching into the landscape

And I feel the revulsion of those

Who see, but are forever blind.