Alone with just my mind I lost touch with what was real, Forgetting about study and friends - Focused on skipping meals.
Though this omen still haunts me Almost every day, I have grown some what strong enough To send it on it’s way
But just like any disease It never truly leaves. It hides in a special box Until it senses my need.
When I am feeling vulnerable And my morale is weak, I still hear a little voice Telling me not to eat.
Sometimes I listen And sometimes I do not. But ask yourself who would chose a life Where food is all they’ve got?