I gaze into a cracked mirror

that spits back shame and disgust.

I claw at my own skin in hatred.

I am an antique turned to rust.

I am my own worst enemy.

My internal world is a nightmare.

My body is a disgrace.

I cringe with every glare.

Food betrays with broken trust.

It no longer is a source of nutrition.

It is an obsession I need to purge.

Binge and purge are my addiction.

It’s a storm that never ceases.

It’s a prayer that echoes back unchanged.

But it is a number I long to reach.

For something else, it is an exchange.

As a ship lost at sea,

my identity becomes appearance.

But at what cost is this trap?

My efforts become my worth’s disappearance.