Whispers settle around my head,
their voices climb into my mind.
I see myself through their eyes,
it's all I can do to feel alive.
I go home to the mirror
I go home to the scale.
I can't go on like this any longer.
I can't keep myself in this hell.
My hands scope my body every night
to search for extra baggage.
And when I find something there is a fight
between the truth and my false image.
I want to be frail as a daisy
but I don't want to lose all my strength.
I want to be graceful and pretty
but I don't want to go dangerous lengths.
Whispers turn into loud voices,
I stay at home and tune them out.
I see myself through the eyes
of someone who has given up.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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good poem loved all of it
well done keep it uppppp x
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Good!
I understand this and i like it. The images that fly through our own minds sometimes out weigh the actual scale or image
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Aheartfelt immagery and the tone as well bringing the mystic truths around the words....I love it..and my thanks for sharing such a wonderful piece..
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