I just wanted something to control...
Now my weight overrules.
I never had a chance to figure out what was wrong with me
Then it was to late to even see.
My organs started failing.
I started dying
My body is getting weaker..
With every spoken moment.
6 ribs, Not enough.
I might be so tall.
It might be such a low number..
But the mirror...
What I see.
The weight that carries over top of me.
I just want to die, I can't even stand to look at myself.
So I keep myself from food, so I have something to control.
But then that when I realized that my weight overrules.
Thank you for reading my poem about anorexia...