Thinspiration
will be my salvation.
I used to look like that,
hipbones out, tummy flat.
How I hate to look like this,
A little bulge I find amiss.
Cut down the pounds, only ten
those stick-like girls could be me again.
Not a bite will pass my lips,
not a calorie on my hips.
Over a hundred I won't weigh,
my resolve will no longer stray.
I believe the hunger's nice
I'm oh-so-willing to pay the price.